No Measure of Time
by cosmogirl7481
Summary: Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much time and distance you allow, there are some things, some people you never get over.  What happens when the one who got away is the very one you refuse to let go?  E/B Rated M for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I borrowed the title from Breaking Dawn.**

**I didn't think you'd mind, since I also borrowed the characters.**

**Everything else is mine.**

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April, 2002

_"Does that feel good?" he whispers._

_He's between my legs, holding me open with one hand, while the index and middle fingers of his other hand rub and pet me. _

_It's soft._

_The way he's touching me is so soft._

_I can only nod my head, too embarrassed to whimper and cry the way I want. Too embarrassed to actually tell him the way it makes me feel._

_"I love how wet you get," he says, embarrassing me further. "I love the way it feels on my fingers," his eyes darken, even in the light, "I love the way it tastes."_

_I close my eyes because his words are too much. But I crave them - I crave the way they make me feel. I love the way he talks to me when we're together like this. I love the way he wants to know...everything._

_"Do you know how good you taste?" he asks, his middle finger sliding down to my entrance, pausing, and then pushing completely inside me. "Tell me," he presses. With his words, his hand. "Do you know?"_

_"No," I gasp, biting down hard on my lip. "I don't."_

_His head falls to the side, his soft, tousled hair tickling the inside of my naked thigh. He's looking at me...there. He's watching what he's doing so intently. And I'm watching him...growing wetter by the moment. And then he pulls his finger out. Slowly. So fucking slowly. And then, he pushes back inside again. And I'm panting and squirming while I watch him watching his finger as it fucks me and makes me come._

_"Do you want to?" he asks, his finger stilling completely._

_But I can't make sense of his question - I have no idea what his words mean. I can only focus on the way he feels...the way he looks._

_"Answer me, baby," he persists. "Do you want to?"_

_Each word is separate and succinct. Soft and deliberate...just like the way he's touching me._

_"What?" I whisper, breathless. "Do I want to what?"_

_His head moves in closer. I feel the slight stubble on his jaw and it drags down my over-sensitive skin. He mouth hovers above my pussy. His breath is hot and damp even against my wet skin. He presses down until his nose is against me there. I feel it press against my pubic hair...nuzzling, breathing in deeply. And still, even after all this time, even after everything we've done together, this embarrasses me. But I lose all thought the moment I feel his soft tongue lick me, his warm mouth open and suck me in._

_And then, against my overheated flesh, he whispers, "Do you want to know how good you taste to me?"_

_"I...I...I don't know," I stammer, unable to think about what he's really asking._

_Is he really asking me this?_

_S__uddenly, his finger pulls out of me, and he's above me. His legs are straddling me and his cock - his perfect, long, beautiful cock - is resting on my belly. His fingers and hand are wet with me. I see it, slick and shining, in the early morning light that's coming through the window above my bed._

_He brings his fingers to my closed lips, but I can't help breathing in. I can smell myself, my own body. It smells soft and pungent. It smells like sex._

_Our sex._

_"Open your mouth," he whispers, his voice a little rougher than before. "Open your mouth and taste it...suck it."_

_And I do._

_He pushes his middle finger inside and over my tongue. I am surrounded and overwhelmed by the way this makes me feel. Dizzy and light-headed. My tongue licks and my mouth closes around him and sucks. And this is what I taste like - this is what he tastes whenever he licks me and loves me with his mouth._

_"Do you see, baby?" he whispers, hovering over me. "Do you see why I love it? Why I love being between your legs? Why I could lick your pretty pussy all fucking day?"_

_My hands reach up and grab his wrist, almost like I'm trying to pull him closer._

_I do see._

_I feel like I see everything so much more clearly when he's with me like this._

_"You're so sweet," he whispers, his eyes softer as he looks at me, his cock harder as it presses against my belly. "Don't you see how sweet you are, my sweet, sweet girl?"_

_I open my mouth, his finger slipping out and trailing wetly down my throat._

_"Maybe," I whisper. "You make me see and feel so much."_

_His mouth covers mine and I taste myself again. The kiss is hot and wet and deep, and he groans as his hands cup my face, his fingers in my hair._

_"What do you want?" he whispers? "Right now. What do you want?"_

_I look up at him with wide eyes, and I know that he can feel my heart pounding against his chest._

_"You," I whisper. "Right now, I want to taste you."_

_He groans. It's sexy, and echoes in my ear. _

_And then he's lifting up, moving higher up and over my body._

_His cock is hard and the head of it pressing against my lips._

_I lick the tip. It's salty, but I think it tastes better than me._

_"You want to suck me, baby?" he asks; his voice sounds pained. I nod my head, opening my mouth as his cock slips inside. "I won't last if I fuck your mouth."_

_His head falls back, and he hisses._

_My hands reach around him, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer._

_Licking._

_Sucking._

_And I lose myself in the happiness of knowing that I do this to him. _

_I am the only one who does this to him._

_"Fuck, Bella," he cries. "Never stop. I never want to stop feeling this way."_

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May, 2012

I look at the invitation.

I hold it and turn it over in my hands.

**Class of 2002**

Ten years,

I can't believe it's been ten years since I finished undergrad.

Ten years since I've seen him.

And it's been nine years, three hundred and sixty-three days since I've heard his voice, felt his arms around me...felt him move inside me.

What if I go, and he's there?

What if I go, and he's not?

I look down at my left ring finger, and I don't know which thought scares me more.

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**This story will post daily. Thank you for reading my words. **

**To my pre-readers, Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina… I love you all. Couldn't imagine doing this without you. You all make me smile each and every day.**

**To my beta and my friend, Marvar… You are amazing and absolutely irreplaceable. Thank you for everything. I love you more than you know.**

**See you in the morning!**


	2. Chapter 2

May 2012

When you're young, you never think you're young. And you always, always think you're right.

About everything.

At least, that's how it was for me.

I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom of my room at the waterside Marriott here in Seattle. This is where they're having the reunion. I look at myself for a long time. I'm no longer young – but at thirty-two – I'm not exactly old either. My skin is still damp and pink from the hot shower, my heart is still pounding. It hasn't stopped.

Not since I got off the plane at Sea-Tac.

Maybe not since I actually made the decision to come.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I shake my head, knowing full-well what I was thinking when I decided to come to this thing. I'm not here to reminisce with old friends from college. While I enjoyed my college experience thoroughly, I didn't make the lifelong friends that other people talk about.

I had one friend.

One.

Edward Cullen.

Have you ever had a friend who was the entire world?

When I was a little girl, I used to sit for hours watching _Anne of Green Gables_. My dad, Charlie, hated it. It was too "girly" for him. But he would watch with me sometimes.

Anyway, Anne had a bosom-friend, Diana. And as a child, I always wanted that kind of friendship. But I was quiet and shy to the point of uncomfortable. I was always reading and studying, and I didn't make friends very easily. Or at all for that matter.

I always wanted a friend like Diana.

A bosom friend.

Well, at a party my freshman year at the University of Washington, I met my bosom friend. Only she wasn't a raven-haired beauty. She wasn't a _she_ at all.

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September, 1998

"_Are you drunk?" a quiet voice asks beside me._

_I close my eyes, and my hands grip the red Solo cup tighter. There's something about this voice – his voice – that is soothing. But somehow, it makes every hair on my head stand on end._

"_No," I say, laughing and peeking up at the boy standing beside me. He's beautiful. Like, really beautiful. And his messy hair is red and kind of all over the place. Normally, someone like him would have me running back to my dorm without even a look back. But there's something off-putting about him. Disarming even. I decide in that moment, it's his smile. Soft and big and wide. He seems approachable. Beautiful, but approachable. "Why? Are _you_ drunk?"_

"_No," he laughs softly. "I've just been watching you all night, and you've had like three of those red cups, so I figured you must be drunk by now. I mean, you're not really that big."_

_I laugh. Loudly. It scares me a little because I'm never this – I don't know – this free with anyone._

"_First of all," I tell him, looking at him all serious-like, "Telling a girl that you've been watching her all night is kind of weird. Secondly, it's even weirder when you ask her if she's drunk. Thirdly…"_

"_There's a thirdly?" he says, grinning._

"_Yes, smart-ass," I say, punching him in the arm. Wait. Did I just touch this boy I don't even know? Yes, yes I did. Shaking my head, I try to get back to my third and last point. "Thirdly…I'm only drinking Coke. So, no. I'm definitely not drunk."_

_He laughs, but looks a little mortified._

"_I didn't _want_ you to be drunk," he says. "I was just worried…I don't know…you sort of seem a little lost."_

_His eyes are genuine._

_His smile even more so._

"_I know where I am," I tell him softly, feeling an unexplainable flush in my cheeks._

"_I know that," he says, sitting down beside me. I didn't tell him he could, but I'm happy that he did. "I was just saying…thinking…this doesn't seem like your kind of thing."_

_I try not to be insulted._

_I mean, he doesn't really know me._

"_And what do you think my kind of thing is?" I ask him boldly. Well, boldly for me._

_He smiles at me._

_I return it without thinking._

"_I don't know," he says, the playfulness gone from his voice. "But I'd like to find out."_

_He turns in his seat to face me. He runs his fingers through his hair._

"_I'm Edward by the way," he says, looking into my eyes. And it doesn't go unnoticed that he's actually meeting my eyes. And I'm meeting his. And even more than all that – none of this feels strange. _

"_Hi, Edward," I say, trying his name out. I like it. I like this. "I'm Bella."_

_._

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May, 2012

I'm still lost in memories, as I finish lining my eyes. I think about how different I look now. And I hate myself a little for wondering what he'll think of me if he sees me tonight. I hate myself a little more for knowing what I _want_ him to think.

He's probably not even coming.

But even as I think it, I know I hope it's not true.

The meet and greet is being held in the cocktail lounge downstairs. I slide on a little black dress that hugs my curvier curves in all the right places. And I step into a pair of fuck-me-heels that I have no sensible reason to be wearing.

But none of this is sensible, is it?

My hair falls over my shoulders, and I tell myself that I'm not wearing it down because that's how he used to like it.

And looking in the mirror one last time, I think that this is it. I've come here for a reason – even if I refuse to admit it out loud. I want to know – I _need_ to know if I made the biggest mistake of my life ten years ago.

Or was it last month?

I step outside the room, closing my eyes and taking a shaky breath as the door clicks softly behind me.

I hope the answers are here.

I hope…I hope that he is here.

And there's only one way to find out.

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to chapter one. The fact that you even read at all means the world to me. **

**Thanks and love to the most wonderful, beautiful and amazing pre-readers ever. They make me less neurotic and much less scared about posting something new. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…ILY all.**

**And of course, all the love and thanks in the world to my beta and friend, Marvar, who has been with me since the very beginning. Loving and supporting me before anyone else. I am forever grateful for everything she does and everything she is.**

**See you all in the morning!**


	3. Chapter 3

May, 2012

I'm on edge as I walk into the bar. There's a small table in the corner for alumni to register and get a name badge.

Fuck that.

I'm definitely not doing that. As horrible as it sounds – even in my own mind – I don't care about any of the people in this room.

Unless he's here.

I briefly scan the room, looking to see if I can find copper hair, green eyes. I'm holding my breath because honestly, I don't know what I'll actually do if I see him. It's not as if I'm going to walk up to him. I mean, what would I even say?

Goddamn, I didn't think this through.

I gulp, relaxing just the teensiest bit when I realize that he's not here. And just as soon as I relax, my still-pounding heart plummets into my stomach as it sinks in that he's not here.

Maybe he's not coming.

Or worse…

Maybe he is coming…with his perfect wife. She probably has a perfect body and a perfect name. And she's probably not perfectly stupid or a perfect fucking mess.

Shit.

Motherfucking shit.

I walk to the bar – carefully so I don't trip in these ridiculous heels. There are a few men and women there. I try to place them, but I can't. The bartender offers me a small smile and a napkin.

"What can I get for you?" he asks.

"Ummm…" I pause, biting down on my lip. I still don't drink too much. I've never been able to really hold my liquor. But one drink won't hurt. And god knows I could use something to calm my nerves. "Vodka-tonic with lime," I tell him.

While he makes my drink, I glance nervously around the room again. It's after nine, and this 'meet and greet' thing started at eight. Surely if he was coming, he would be here by now.

I should pray he doesn't come.

I should be thankful when he _doesn't_ come, and then I should book the first flight back to New York where I should take a good chunk of time to reevaluate my life. The decisions I've made in my life.

But then I remember that _reevaluation_ was what brought me here to begin with.

I find an empty table in the corner of the room, so I make my way over and take a seat. There's a DJ playing songs from the year we graduated. And I smile to myself, thinking that it's impossible that some of these songs are ten years old. I would wonder where all the time went, but deep down I know.

I take a long drink of my vodka-tonic. I close my eyes, and will the alcohol to calm me down. I tell myself I shouldn't be nervous anymore. I've come. I'm here. And he's not. The thought hits me harder than I expect it to. He's really not here. He's really not coming. I don't know how I allowed myself to think that he might actually show up. That he might actually be thinking or feeling the way that I feel.

He might not regret what happened at all.

Or if he did, he'd probably long since gotten over it.

I _wanted_ to get over it.

God knows I tried.

But he was always there in the back of my mind. The memory of him – the way he filled my heart, the way he knew my body – has always been there.

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October 1999

"_Why are you crying, Bella?" he asks, sitting on the foot of the twin bed in my dorm room._

_And I look at him, feeling the hot tears staining my cheeks. Everything is easy with Edward. It has been since I met him last year. _

"_Tyler's dating Lauren now," I say, sniffling quietly. "They were together at lunch today."_

_He laughs, but at least has the decency to look apologetic._

"_I'm sorry," he says, reaching out to play with some loose threads on the bottom of my jeans. "But you didn't really like him, did you?" he asks, looking up at me through his long lashes. Funny, I've never really noticed how long they actually are. And his eyes seem so much greener than they normally do. "You're too good for him."_

"_I liked him," I pout. "Well…I mean, I thought I did. I mean, I thought he liked me."_

_He looks at me for a long time._

"_You can do better," he says finally._

"_I don't want to do better!" I snap, a whole new fresh wave of tears filling my burning eyes. "I want to do something."_

_He looks a little shocked at my outburst._

"_What do you mean?" he asks, his fingers letting go of the threads. His hand moves around and cups my sock-covered heel. And it's warm, comforting. It feels good._

"_I've never done anything," I continue. "Do you know I've never been on a date? Not once…not ever. I've never even…"_

_I trail off, not knowing if I want to admit this to him. I don't know why. It's not like I don't tell him everything._

_He's Edward._

_My best friend._

_I chance a look at him. His eyes are wide, his mouth parted just a little. Only I can't tell what he's thinking. Of course, that probably means that he's thinking I'm a freak. A virginal freak._

"_Never?" he says so softly it's almost a whisper._

"_Nope," I sigh. "I never…I guess I never had the opportunity."_

_His hand is still rubbing me. Only now it slides a little higher. I can feel the warmth on the bare skin of the back of my leg._

_He's still looking at me. He takes a breath, and I think he's about to say something. Only he doesn't. I fight the urge to tell him to get out, so I can throw myself back on the bed and try to forget about everything. But then he speaks, "Did you…"_

_I wait._

_Nothing._

"_What?"_

"_Nothing," he says. "Never mind."_

"_No," I tell him. My heart is beating faster and I don't know why. My body is tense and sitting up straighter, desperate for him to finish his thought. "Tell me. What were you going to say?"_

_His eyes look into mine, and I can tell he's thinking about something. Only I can't tell what it is. And I'm nervous for a million reasons I can't even begin to explain._

_He sighs._

_I hold my breath._

"_Did you…" he starts, but stops again. "Do you…do you want to kiss me?"_

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May, 2012

One drink turns into two, then three. And the time passes before I even realize it. I'm so caught up in memories, by the time I look around, I realize that most of the people who were here have filtered out. There are still a few people talking in small groups, but it's clear that the 'meet and greet' is over.

It's late.

It's late and he didn't come.

I feel stupid tears burn the corners of my eyes. I blink repeatedly, pushing them back. And I'm so fucking pissed that I don't know if I'm crying because of the memories or if it's because I'm realizing that he actually didn't come.

He doesn't care anymore.

And I can't blame him.

I wanted him to move on. And I can't be upset that he did.

It's been ten fucking years!

I down the last of my watered-down cocktail. I tell myself that this is over. This idea that I had was too ridiculous to have entertained. I'm going home tomorrow. And I'll sort out everything then.

And that's when I hear it.

"Bella."

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you for the love. Thank you for every single tweet, recc and message you've sent to me. I haven't been able to reply to reviews yet because of work, but I read and love every one. Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you thnk.**

**My pre-readers are amazing, and funny and wonderful. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…I adore you! And I'm happy you're a part of my life.**

**Marvar is beyond any words I could use to describe her. So, I will settle for I love her. So much. Also she makes my words better. And for that, and a million other things, I am forever grateful.**

**See you in the morning!**


	4. Chapter 4

May, 2012

My entire body tenses, and every single hair that I have stands on edge the moment I hear him say my name. And it is him. The voice is a little different - a little deeper and more masculine than it used to be - but it's definitely him. I know that voice. I have _never_ forgotten that voice. I close my eyes, trying to suppress the million emotions that are flooding my body. But it doesn't work. I can still feel everything, overwhelming as it is.

I can still feel him.

Steeling my nerves, I allow myself one more moment before I open my eyes. And when I do, he's there. Right in front of me. And I'm not prepared for the way he looks. I'm not prepared for how seeing him makes me feel. I'm not prepared for any of this at all.

His hair is no longer the tousled mess that it was when we were younger. It's cropped shorter, cleaner, more classic. It still looks soft. His face no longer has the softness that comes with youth. It's leaner, every angle more defined. His jaw is covered in short stubble, but it looks groomed, trimmed – like he wants it to be that way. And why wouldn't he? It looks fucking amazing. And then, then I meet his eyes. Still green and vibrant, even in the low light of the lounge. They still pierce me. They still look at me like they know me.

And maybe they do.

"Edward," I breathe. Just saying his name out loud makes me tingle in ways I haven't felt in so long - in over ten years. "I didn't think you were coming."

It's honest.

It feels like I'm giving away too much.

"I didn't..." he pauses, "I didn't know if I was coming either."

He runs his fingers through his short hair, and I smile inside, thinking that some things never change.

Even though some things do.

I don't really know what to say to his response. His words are too ambiguous. I settle for, "But you did."

It's not what I want to say. But I don't really _know_ what I want to say yet.

"May I..." he trails off, looking at the chair in front of me.

"Of course," I say too quickly, nodding my head a little too fast. "Please."

As he sits, I notice how casually he's dressed. Jeans hang on his hips in a low rise and he's wearing a simple black sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looks perfect. And I feel overdressed. He notices me looking, and I flush with embarrassment, hoping that the darkness masks the color.

"I just came from the hospital," he says. "I didn't have time to go home and change."

"It's good," I murmur, trying to process what he said. "You look good."

My eyes shoot down to the glass in front of me. I can't look at him right now. I'm too busy dying from my words.

"So do you," he says softly, and I ache. "You look...I wasn't..."

I look up at him as his words falter. His green eyes are dark and unmoving as he takes me in.

"You look amazing, Bella," he finally says. "Your...your life must agree with you."

I hum softly, having no words to say to that. At least not right now. Everything bubbling up to the surface - everything I want to say to him - would be too revealing.

"This feels...awkward," he says.

I laugh dryly at the obvious statement. Only it's not really funny. It's true, and it makes me remember a time when there was nothing awkward between us. I wish there was something in my empty glass to drink.

"Did you expect it not to be?" I ask, meeting his eyes.

His expression is serious as he looks at me. I can feel his eyes on me. It covers every inch of my exposed skin. My breathing accelerates, my heart pounds. And somewhere not so deep inside me, I feel the urge to reach out and touch him, to feel his skin against mine. Even if it's only one more time.

"I didn't have any expectations," he says. "I didn't know if you would come."

Slowly, so fucking slowly, I watch as my hand crosses the small space between us. Only it feels like a thousand miles. And when my hand reaches his, I touch him with trembling fingers as my whole body comes to life from the contact. He gasps. It's quiet. But I hear it, and when I do, I _know_ he feels it, too. That feeling - it's _still_ there.

"I did," I whisper.

His thumb strokes my palm for just a moment, and then he pulls away. He looks at me. A million questions fill his eyes, as many emotions flood his face. And then he takes a deep breath and asks me, "Why?"

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you for reading. Thank each of you for taking the time to tell me what you think. You guys don't know just how much it means. I love that you are enjoying this story. **

**Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Lara and Raina…you guys are the best. Thank you for helping me make this better. Thank you for your encouragement. I love you all.**

**Marvar, my beta-goddess and friend. You are so special and so much the best person I know. Thank you for everything. I love you like crazy.**

**Check out the LiMB outtake that Marvar wrote. It's on our cosmoandmarvar profile. It's awesome. I promise.**

**See you all in the morning!**


	5. Chapter 5

May, 2012

I can't answer his question. I can't begin to explain what brought me here. I shift nervously in my seat. I fight the urge to bring my thumb to my mouth so I won't bite my nail. I can tell he senses my discomfort. And his heavy sigh weighs even heavier on my heart.

I didn't think this through.

I don't think I should have come.

I don't think he wants me here.

But even as I think that he doesn't, I look at him sitting across from me and I know something brought him here tonight.

"Maybe not," he muses softly. "Maybe you can't. Maybe...maybe we're not ready for that yet."

The melancholy in his voice pulls and tears at me.

"I'm here," I say just as softly. "Can that be enough for now?"

His eyes assess me...pierce me.

"Being with you was always enough," he murmurs, and my heart lifts. "For me anyway." And just like that, it falls again.

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October, 1999

_"How was that?" he asks. I lick my lips, and I can still taste him there. All sweet mint and wet from him licking his lips before we did it. _

_"Nice," I tell him, blushing, dying a little. "What...what about me?"_

_He grins and I can't help but follow his lead._

_"Are you asking if you're a good kisser, Bella Swan?"_

_He's playing with me, which is normal and makes me feel better. But it also makes me feel nervous. Like, he's trying to lighten the mood because maybe it wasn't that great._

_"Kind of," I tell him. "And anyway, you asked me first and I told you."_

_"Yeah," he laughs. And I notice that his cheeks are pink. "Nice... That's what every guy wants to hear."_

_"What?" I ask, wondering what he's thinking. "Nice is good."_

_"Good…" he repeats, while his brow furrows._

_And right now I know that boys are stupid and confusing. _

_"It was great," I tell him. _

_"Really?" He smiles. "Great?"_

_"Yeah, great," I say, unable to stop the giggle that escapes. "Even if it wasn't a _real_ kiss."_

_"Why wasn't it real?" he asks, his voice a little sharper than before. "It _felt_ real."_

_And there's this fluttering in my stomach at his words. These feelings I don't really understand. And while I feel strange, _this is Edward_. He's my best friend, and I can tell him anything. So, I do._

_"Yeah, I mean it was real," I tell him, digging my short nails into the palms of my hands. "But it wasn't _real_ real."_

_"What do you mean?" he asks. _

_"I don't know," I huff, feeling irritated that I have to explain this to him out loud, when he's the one with more experience. I briefly wonder how many girls he's kissed, but I don't like the way that makes me feel. "Isn't there...I don't know...isn't there supposed to be tongues or something?"_

_His entire face goes pale and he stares at me for a really long time. I wonder if he thinks that kissing me like that would be awkward. Or what if he didn't really like the other kiss at all?_

_"You want me to...kiss you?" he says, his voice shaking. "_With my tongue_?"_

"_Just forget it," I mumble, turning away from him. Only there's nothing in my dorm room that interesting enough for me to pretend to look at. _

"_Bella," he says, nudging my legs with his. I don't look at him. I can't. I'm too embarrassed and all of this is too horrifying for words. "Bella, please…look at me."_

_I glare at him, but the moment my eyes meet his, I see that they're as pleading as his voice. And I know I can't stay mad at him. Besides, none of this is his fault._

"_I'm sorry," I say quickly. "Really, just…just never mind."_

"_I was just surprised," he said. "I mean, I didn't think you would _want_to kiss me like that."_

"_Why not?" I ask. "I mean, I trust you. And it wouldn't have to be a big deal or anything. It could be like…I don't know…like practice."_

_He studies me._

_My eyes._

_My mouth._

"_Practice," he repeats._

"_Yeah," I say, sitting up and feeling more excited than I was before. "And you could tell me if it's bad," I say, reaching out to take his hand. He squeezes my fingers. "You have to _promise_ me that you'll tell me if I suck."_

_His cheeks are pink, and I think I've embarrassed him. _

"_You won't suck," he whispers. He pushes a strand of hair from my face, and when his fingers graze my neck, I shiver from the tingle that runs all the way down my spine. "You're sure you want to do this? With me?"_

_I nod my head and bite down on my lip, feeling more nervous than I did before. His hand is still on my neck and it's warm and it's making me feel things I haven't ever really felt with him before. But I try not to focus on them because it's only making things more confusing. And if I think too much, I might not be able to kiss him like I want to kiss him._

"_Close your eyes," he whispers. "And don't move."_

_I do exactly as I'm told, and I wait for what seems like a hundred years._

_But then I feel it._

_Soft and wet and warm as his lips cover mine._

_They move slowly. So, so slowly. And part of me wonders when we're going to get to the open mouths and tongues portion of this kiss, but the other part… Holy shit, the other part of me is melting and falling and dying a little because his lips feel so good._

_So soft._

_So sweet._

_So good._

_And then it happens. His tongue slips out and licks my lips, and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, but something tells me to open my mouth. So, I do. And then his tongue is inside me. I can taste him. And he tastes amazing._

_I tentatively lick his tongue inside my mouth. It seems strange, and I'm afraid that I'm doing the wrong thing, but then he groans._

_He groans._

_In my mouth._

_And for a second I think I've done something wrong, but just when I'm about to pull back, he grips my neck and pulls me closer. And maybe groaning is good. But then, he kisses me softly three times on the lips. I think he licks my lips again, but I'm feeling dizzy and can't really tell._

_He pulls back and he's panting. But so am I. His eyes are soft and green and a little fuzzy, but maybe that's just my vision._

_His finger traces my lips as he presses his forehead against mine, and he whispers, "I told you that you wouldn't suck."_

.

.

.

May, 2012

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

I don't know how many moments have passed, but it's enough that I'm embarrassed.

"You don't want to know," I say, shaking my head.

He laughs and I can't tell what he's thinking.

"What?" I say. "You really don't want to know."

"You're wrong," he says. There's no sarcastic inflection, not even a hint of humor. "I always wanted to know everything about you."

This moment seems so heavy, so much bigger than I was prepared for.

"I was thinking about our first kiss," I admit.

Every feature on his face relaxes as he smiles. And his smile is still so fucking gorgeous. It takes my breath away.

"What about now?" I ask. "Is it still true now?"

"What?"

I refuse to look away. Apparently, he's equally determined.

"Do you still want to know everything about me?"

"Always," he says lowly. "I said always."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you, every single one of you reading and reviewing and talking about this fic. You all are making me so happy. I don't even have words to tell you just how much I appreciate it. And you. **

**My pre-readers are fuck-awesome. That is all. I couldn't do this without them. Well, I could, but it wouldn't be as much fun. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…ILY.**

**Marvar IS actually the one I couldn't do this without. She is amazing and brilliant and lovely. And I love her more than cock. Which, if you know me, is a lot.**

**See you in the morning!**


	6. Chapter 6

May, 2012

His words hang heavy in the air between us. And even though looking at him is almost painful right now, I can't tear my eyes away at all.

"What do you want to know?" I ask.

He takes a deep breath, and his eyes close for the smallest second before he says, "How are you, Bella?"

People ask this question all the time - every day. But mostly they don't mean it. They don't want to know the real answer to that question. But that isn't the case with him. There's a painful sincerity in his voice that breaks me a little.

"I'm good," I lie. The crease in his brow tells me he knows I'm not being honest. I was never able to lie to him. I never had a reason. "I'm fine," I amend. "I'm...okay."

"Just okay?" he asks.

I can tell he wants to say something else, so I wait. But the words never come.

"Yeah," I nod. "Just okay."

His hand reaches across the table, and my heart slams in my chest as I watch the movement, but he stops in the halfway, his fingers playing nervously at the drink menu in the middle.

"This really _is_ awkward," he says simply, repeating the same word he used before. And I have to laugh at the honesty in his simple statement. 'Awkward' doesn't begin to cover what this is.

"How are you?" I offer. "You said you came from the hospital. Does that...does that mean you're working here now? Living here now?"

And even though his eyes close again, I can see him relax at my question. And I think that maybe this will be better. We can talk about him. I want to know about him. I want to know everything about him.

.

.

.

November, 1999

_"I think it's good," he says, looking up from my laptop. "I think it's really, really good."_

_Things have been strange since we kissed. But after a couple weeks of avoidance, we've settled back into some semblance of normalcy._

_"The internship is for the summer," I say. "I have to submit this by the end of the week in order to even be considered. I've never been to New York, but I really want to go."_

_"You'd be gone all summer?" he asks._

_"Yeah," I tell him. _

_"I'm gonna miss you," he says, his expression soft and somewhat unreadable. I've always been able to tell what Edward was thinking, but something is different now. _

_Stupid, perfect, amazing kiss._

_"Well," I tell him, nudging his shoulder. He smiles - it's small, but it's enough to make me happy. "You'll be in Chicago. And we'll email and talk all the time."_

_"I'm not going home this summer," he says._

_This is news to me._

_"Why?" I ask. "Why wouldn't you go home?"_

_"I'm taking summer classes this year," he says, looking off. "I have to retake the chemistry class I got a C in."_

_"You passed that class," I tell him, still not understanding. "Why do you have to take it again?"_

_"I'll never be accepted into medical school with a C on my transcript, Bella," he says. "My dad is insisting I take it over."_

_"So, you're going to be here in Seattle all summer?" I ask._

_"Yeah," he nods, laughing dryly. "Without you."_

_The sadness on his face makes me ache, but I also know that I'd feel the same way. I don't know if I could be here without him. _

_"Maybe it won't be so bad," I say, trying to cheer him up. "Maybe you'll...I don't know...meet someone. A girl maybe."_

_The moment I say the words, irrational yet completely overwhelming jealousy fills me. I don't want to think of Edward with someone else. And I don't know if it's the kiss or just my own selfish need to be the one girl in his life, but all I know is I don't like it. _

_I look over at him, and his expression matches my feelings. And now I'm even more confused than I was before. Does Edward feel the same way I feel? Was the kiss just as confusing for him?_

_"I don't want to meet another girl," he says. There's no playful humor in his voice, no snark or sarcasm. "I just...I want..."_

_He slides my computer from his lap and he turns to look at me._

_And I'm looking at my best friend and wondering how things got so muddled and unclear. _

_"What do you want?" My voice is barely a whisper._

_He reaches out to touch my cheek. His palm is warm against my face. I lean into it, closing my eyes. And when I open them, his eyes are wide and big and nervous. But he whispers back, "You."_

_A million things cross my mind...a million questions I want to ask. But I can only form one word. "How?"_

_He laughs. It's not funny. _

_"I don't know," he says. "I just know that I can't stop thinking about you, Bella. All the time."_

_"Is this because of the kiss?" I ask. "We never should have done it."_

_He scoots a little closer to me. _

_My heart pounds a little harder, faster. _

_"It is, but it isn't," he says. "The kiss just made it...I don't know...more. But I was thinking about you...like this before that. I think about you…well, a lot."_

_"Edward," I say, exasperated and nervous and maybe a little bit happy, a little bit terrified. "You're my best friend," I tell him. "You're my...only real friend. Ever."_

_His eyes are soft as his thumb strokes my hot cheek._

_"You're _my_ best friend," he says. _

_"What if...I don't know," I say, the nerves getting the best of me. "I can't lose your friendship. It's...it's too important."_

_"Bella," he whispers, "why can't we have both?"_

.

.

.

May, 2012

"Yeah," he nods. "I live here now."

"Wow," I say. "I didn't...I didn't know."

His sigh draws my eyes to his mouth. His fucking perfect mouth.

"How would you have?" he asks.

And his words hurt me because they're true. I wouldn't have known. I don't know anything. Neither does he. We haven't spoken, haven't emailed, haven't communicated in over ten years.

"Why did you come back here?" I breathe.

He studies me.

I let him.

I feel the weight of it press into me. It's so heavy that it almost feels like a touch.

"Because," he says, lifting his hand. For a second, I think he might reach out to me the same way I already reached out to him. But he doesn't. Instead, he brings his hand from the table and into his hair. "Because I wanted to live in the only place I've ever been really happy."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you to everyone who's reading. Thank you for all the wonderful words of support and encouragement. You all mean the world to me. As much as I love these characters, I love this community more. You all are the one's keeping me here.**

**Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…ILY girls. And I thank you for everything you do for me.**

**Marvar, thank you for editing, for listening and for being the most amazing friend. And thank you for your kick-ass ninja skills in sweater boots. ILY so, so much. I could never do this without you. Ever.**

**See you in the morning!**


	7. Chapter 7

May, 2012

His words are quiet.

They float, they hang, and then they fall over me.

I don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to take them. I don't know if they should give me hope that I'm too afraid to have or if they were spoken as a means to wound me...to remind me.

"Was that..." he starts, his voice even lower than before. "Is that too much?"

I almost laugh at the absurdity of his question. Because all of this is too much. Every second - every moment with him - has been so much that I can barely breathe.

"You were always too much," I say, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

A small smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, but as he stares at me, it disappears.

"I wouldn't say that was true," he says.

"You wouldn't?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I would say that, if anything, I was never enough."

.

.

.

July. 2000

_The door barely closes before his lips are on mine. It's hot and damp like the hair I'm clutching on the nape of his neck. And he tastes as good as he feels. Warm and sweet and familiar._

_"I've missed you," he breathes. _

_"So much," I whisper in return._

_He pulls back, and my hands drop down to the t-shirt covering his chest. I clutch at it tightly, not wanting to let him go. His eyes scan the small room of the studio apartment I'm sharing with two other interns._

_"So this is where you live?" he asks._

_I nod my head, biting down on my lip._

_The place is small - so small that it makes me long for the luxury of my tiny dorm room. _

_"I can't believe you're here," I tell him._

_"I couldn't go the rest of the summer without seeing you," he tells me, kissing me gently on the lips._

_"What was that for?" I ask._

_"Because I can," he says, smiling wide. "Because you're letting me."_

_And there's no way he could know all the things I would let him do if he wanted. The things I don't even know about, but I want to learn them all with him._

_"I like your kisses," I whisper, as his lips move to my neck. It tickles. It makes me squirm. "A lot."_

_I lead him to the small futon in the corner of the room. We sit there for hours, talking, touching...kissing some more. _

_"So, you're doing good," he says. _

_"Yeah," I tell him. "It's hard and I don't know everything...or anything for that matter. But I'm learning."_

_"I passed my class," he says. "I aced it, actually. I think that's why my dad was more than willing to spring for this trip."_

_"I'm glad," I tell him. "And only a little bit of that is because you got to come."_

_He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear._

_"You look wonderful, Bella," he says. "You look happy."_

_"I am," I tell him, beaming. "But that's because you're here."_

_He pulls me close, he wraps his arms around me. And I don't even care that it's hot, that we don't even have any air conditioning in this shitty apartment. I only care about the way this feels. He's here. Edward is here, and everything feels complete because of it._

_He chuckles. It's deep, and his breath covers the skin of my neck._

_"What?" I ask, laughing too. Only I have no idea why._

_He pushes me back, so that he can look at me. His eyes are bright green against the flush of his red cheeks._

_"I told you that this would be easy," he murmurs, and then pulls me to him so I'm sitting in his lap, pressed flush against his chest. "We got this."_

.

.

.

May, 2012

"Why are you here, Bella?"

Even though his question shouldn't surprise me, the directness of it does. That, combined with the weight of his stare, makes me feel vulnerable and exposed.

"I wanted to see you," I tell him. "I wanted to...I wanted to know..."

"What?" he presses.

Even though there are some people lingering in the room and the DJ is still playing music, the space seems too quiet. This conversation seems too intimate. I feel as if everyone around us is listening.

"I thought about you," I tell him, closing my eyes and collecting my scattered thoughts. When I open them, he's leaning in closer, his elbows on the table. He's close - close enough to touch. I have to stop myself from reaching out. I feel like his eyes still see through me the same way they always did. And even though what I want to say will reveal too much, I say it. "I mean...I think...I think about you."

His breath hitches.

I want to catch it.

"Stop," he says. "Just...just don't."

Frustration and embarrassment flare.

I see his pain. It's written boldly across his face. It mars his otherwise beautiful features. But can't he see mine? Doesn't he see mine?

"What?" I ask. "You asked me. I mean, don't you? Just sometimes. Don't you ever think about me?"

He sighs; it's loud and harsh. He leans back, pulling away from the table...from me. My hands drop to my lap; my fingers press and curl into fists as I suppress the urge I have to stand up and walk away.

He looks at me for the longest time, and stubbornly I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.

"No," he says. "I don't think about you _sometimes_, Bella."

And this is what I wanted, isn't it? The truth. The goddamned, painful truth that I fucked up. I fucked up then. I fucked up in New York. I fucked up tonight by coming here.

It feels like a knife stabs me in the stomach. It feels like every single thing kept secret inside me is about to leak out of my wound. But just as I'm about to apologize for asking, for coming here, for everything...he continues.

"I think about you constantly."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you for reading. Thank you for…well, everything. I adore you all so much.**

**My pre-readers, Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…you know the truth. I love you and couldn't do this without you. But I will tell you every single day.**

**Marvar is the reason that anything of this is readable. And not embarrassing. Thank you for everything, soulmate. I love you more than Joey loves sandwiches and porn. **

**See you in the morning!**


	8. Chapter 8

November, 2000

"_Are you sure?" he says._

_We're both wet with rain and standing in the middle of my dorm room. He's holding me close, and I'm clinging to him, shivering, shaking, and I know it's not from the cold._

_I know we need to change, to dry off, but I don't want to let go. So, I look up at him and nod my head. And he doesn't need me to say the words. _

_He just knows._

_And this is how it is._

_This is how it should be._

_When I eventually look back on this moment, I'll know that there didn't need to be candles and flowers. It just needs to be this – just us – just me and Edward standing in my room in the middle of a rainy afternoon._

_His mouth takes mine, kissing and sucking. And with each stroke of his tongue, each pull of his lips, I give myself over to him a little more. And this is all I have left to give him._

_He has my love._

_He has my heart._

_And now he'll have my body._

"_I've…I've never…" I mumble against his lips._

"_I know," he whispers. "You know I haven't either."_

_This stops me, shocks me._

_I still in his arms, looking up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth that suddenly can't speak._

"_You know it's only you," he breathes._

_I watch him swallow._

_His throat wet, his lips red._

"_I just…I don't…" I stammer. "I just assumed."_

_He kisses me hard and deep, his green eyes open and holding mine the entire time. It steals my breath. He takes away every single thing around me, until he pulls back, panting._

"_You were wrong."_

_And I feel like I could cry. I feel like I could sing. I feel so many different things, but mostly I just feel him._

"_I love you," I breathe._

_I don't say the words often – only a handful of times since I got back from New York. I have a hard time with emotion. But he knows me, he gets me. He's always understood me, even though sometimes, I understand very little about myself._

"_So much," he whispers. "I love you so much, Bella."_

_We're both awkward fumbles and tentative kisses. Furtive glances are exchanged as piece by piece, we remove every single layer._

_He strips me bare._

_Naked._

_In every sense of the word._

_And when I feel his body over mine as he covers me with warm, wet skin, I know – young as I am – that there will never be anyone else for me but him._

.

.

.

May, 2012

His admission is a tangible thing between us. I feel as though I could reach out and touch it, hold it in my hands.

And just like always, I don't know what to say.

"You're so different," he says.

He's leaning in again, his body just inches away from mine. I lean in, as well. Pulled to him like the falling apple to the ground. And I wonder for a moment if all of this was inevitable. If Edward really is my center of gravity.

"Older," I say.

My hand reaches up and strokes the flushed skin of my neck as I look down.

"Beautiful," he says. "Womanly."

"You, too," I murmur, then laugh. "Not the womanly part. Just…I don't know," I reach for words that I should find easy and familiar, "the same, but…different."

"You still blush," he says, laughing lowly.

"What?" I laugh, too.

"It's just, I don't know," he says, his hand at the back of his neck. "If I were to see you for the first time now, I would never imagine you were shy."

"Appearances can be deceiving," I tell him.

Moments pass as his eyes hold mine. And even though a part of this feels easier, the real weight of what lies between us is still there.

"Tell me about your life," he says. "Are you a writer?"

"No," I shake my head. "I have no words of my own," I laugh. "I edit other people's words."

Something sparks in his eyes.

It's intense, but fleeting.

"Does it…does that make you happy?" he asks, his voice a little rougher, a little sharper than before.

"Does anyone's work truly make them happy?" I ask. "I enjoy what I do. I even love it on good days, but it's still work. It's still a means to an end."

And suddenly, the tension that had dissipated is back in full force as he regards me. His eyes press into me; the thoughts behind them are unclear.

"And what is your end?" he asks, his voice a touch uncertain. "What do you go home to at night when your good days are over? Or should I ask to whom?"

My right hand immediately goes to my left ring finger, twisting and pulling uncomfortably. I'm thankful he can't see me.

I lick my dry lips.

I force myself to breathe, then speak.

"I could've asked you the same question," I say.

He notices the break in my voice.

He leans in further.

He's close, he's too fucking close. And his hands are on the table.

I could reach out to touch him if I had the strength and courage. I could feel him, warm beneath my fingers. I could do so fucking much…but I don't.

"But you didn't," he replies smoothly. "And you still didn't answer me, Bella."

Somewhere inside I find enough strength to lean forward. Somewhere beside it is my voice.

"If I answer you," I begin, trying to ignore the pounding in my heart, "will you answer me?"

"Yes," he breathes.

I feel it brush against my face.

I take a deep breath, but just as I'm about to open my mouth, my heart…he touches my hand, his fingers glide and brush against mine. He looks down and he curses, "Fuck."

My eyes shoot up, and vivid, piercing green is staring back.

"Bella?"

My free hand covers his, holding him against me, pleading with him to not let go.

"Edward, please let me explain."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you for reading. All of you are simply the most wonderful and amazing women ever. Your thoughts and comments and words make me smile every single day.**

**My pre-readers are genuinely the most wonderful, eclectic, diverse group of women. Each of them special to me in their own way. But I love them all. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…thank you.**

**Marvar, thank you for everything you do and everything you are. Thank you for always listening and for your encouragement. You make me smile, solemeat. I adore you like the scarecrow.**

**See you in the morning!**


	9. Chapter 9

January, 2001

"_What are you thinking about?" he whispers in my ear._

_He's pressed up against me on the couch in his apartment. My jeans are unbuttoned and his hand is inside my panties, touching me._

"_I can't think about anything right now," I pant._

_His leg wraps around mine and spreads me open further, and I look down and watch as his fingers move just inside me. Petting me. _

"_Tell me," he breathes into my ear._

_I shiver all over, panting and needy. I'm completely overwhelmed by the feelings that our still-new physical relationship are causing._

_I want him all the time._

_I think about him, about this all the time._

_I'm fascinated by the way he makes me feel, the way he looks while he's touching me._

"_I like that," I whisper, still watching his hand move._

"_Yeah?" he says. "What else do you like?"_

_I bury my face against his neck, shaking my head._

"_I can't," I tell him, kissing him softly._

"_Tell me," he urges, his breath hot and wet. "Trust me. I like it when you tell me, Bella. I wanna make you feel good. I like to know what you like."_

_His finger strokes up and he rubs against my clit. My whole body tenses from the contact because it's too much…the pressure is too intense._

"_Softer," I whisper nervously. "When you touch me…there," I look at him even though I'm embarrassed, but his green eyes are locked on mine. Tender and sweet and attentive. "I like it when it's softer."_

_His hand stills inside my panties, and his lips cover mine. And it never ceases to astound me that whenever Edward kisses me, I feel like I'm the entire world._

"_Lift up," he says against my mouth. "I wanna make this good for you. I wanna make you…come."_

_I do as he says, and he moves between my legs, pulling down my pants and panties. He spreads me open, looking at me intently. And even though I still feel embarrassed and exposed, I feel safe because it's Edward._

"_I love how wet you get," he tells me, his voice low. "I…I love that I can make you this wet."_

_His index finger slides up and down. And oh, my…when he does this, it feels so freaking good._

"_You like that?" I ask, dying a little. "That it's wet?"_

"_I like that it means you want me."_

_His words are so sincere, his eyes and voice so earnest._

_Vulnerable._

"_I want you all the time," I tell him, as the tip of his finger touches my clit again. Softer this time. Perfect. "So – _oh_ – so much."_

"_Like this?" he whispers._

_I nod my head, unable to form words because it's just exactly what I want._

_My head falls back, my eyes close tightly._

"_Bella?" his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you trust me?"_

_So much. _

"_Mmmm…."_

"_I want to…" he trails off, his finger stills. "I really…I want to kiss you here."_

_My eyes open slowly and I look at him. I don't know if he said what I think he said._

"_Edward," I gasp._

"_Please, Bella," he says. "Will you let me?"_

.

.

.

May, 2012

"What is there to explain?" he asks, his voice low and controlled.

"I know what this…I know what this looks like," I tell him, holding his hand tighter.

I try to focus on what I need to say, what I have to confess, but all I can think about is the fact that I'm touching him again. How good his hand feels in mine.

"I know what it looks like, too," he says, looking down at our hands. "Where is it?"

_Where is it?_

"Wh – what?" I stammer.

"Is it in your purse?" he asks, each word harsher and more resentful than one before it. "Did you just hide it away, hoping I wouldn't see?"

I'm stricken by his words, stunned by his accusation.

"What are you talking about?" I hiss as I realize what he's actually thinking, asking me. "You think that's what I did? Who I am? You might not know me now, Edward, but you know me better than that."

"I don't know you at all," he says, lowering his voice as he looks around. "And you're there…just sitting there this whole time. Letting me think that…"

He takes his hand away from me and then scrubs his face with both his hands before running them roughly through his hair.

"I wasn't letting you think anything," I tell him, desperately trying not to imagine what was running through his mind.

"I can see it, Bella," he says, reaching down and rubbing my bare finger. But there's no tenderness in his touch. "The place where a ring _should_ be. There's an indention on your finger. You…you're…you're married?"

Tears sting my eyes, hot anger floods my cheeks. I look down because I can't look at him anymore. I can't sit here and pretend that what he's just said isn't the most offensive, most hurtful thing that he has ever said to me. That _anyone_ has ever said to me.

I look at my finger, the well-worn band of lighter skin where a ring used to be, where it was until a month ago.

"This…this is what you think of me?" I say, not looking up. But then something snaps inside me. Something deep. Something that won't allow me to back down and not defend myself. So, my eyes lift…even as my heart drops and shatters. "You think I'm married? You think that I'm the kind of person that could…that _would_ come here to…to see you…if I was _married_? Not only that, but you have so little faith in me that you think I would try to hide it from you? I know I hurt you Edward…but you…"

And I can't even finish my thought. I can't speak the words out loud. Because I feel like all of this is pointless, meaningless.

"Bella, I…"

He reaches out to try and take my hand again, but I jerk it back.

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I can't even…I don't know what…"

I push the chair back and stand up, but he stands up, too. He reaches for my hand again, but I stop him.

"I shouldn't have come here," I say. The words taste as bitter as they sound. "This was a mistake. I just…I thought that…"

"What?" he asks. "What did you think?"

I look at him, his still-beautiful face. And I have to force myself to not break down and tell him everything.

"I doesn't matter what I think, Edward," I say, praying that I can keep the tears inside long enough to get away. "It doesn't… None of it matters if this…if _this_ is what you really think of me."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**So, I'll just be over here…waiting to know what you think. Just remember that ILY and I thank all of you so much for reading my words and enjoying this story.**

**My pre-readers all kick ass. So fucking hard. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…thank you. I adore you. All of you. So much.**

**Marvar didn't know that I related to Dorothy and she is definitely prettier than the scarecrow. And I need better metaphors. So, in an attempt to be more creative, here goes… I love Marvar more than Belinda Carlisle loved side ponytails, stirrup pants…and cocaine. **

**(If you didn't get that, you're too young to be reading this. LOL)**

**See you in the morning!**


	10. Chapter 10

May, 2012

I can't get out of the bar fast enough.

And leaving him this time doesn't feel all that different than before.

It still breaks me, still devastates me.

I walk as quickly as I can on these goddamn heels – heels I wore because I wanted him to think I was still pretty. Only it doesn't matter if he thinks I'm pretty because he still hates me after everything that happened. He still thinks that I'm the one who ruined us. He still thinks…

"Bella," he calls from behind me. "Bella, please…stop."

But I don't stop. I know that if I can just get to the elevator, I'll be able to get away. I'll be able to think about this, process this. I'll be able to go back to my life – the life I built on my own – and pick up the pieces again and try to move forward.

Without Edward.

Thankfully, the elevator is open. Rushing, stumbling, I make my way inside and hit the button for my floor upstairs. I close my eyes, waiting for the door to shut because then – only then – will I be able to let go.

The door closes, and I finally let myself cry.

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.

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February, 2002

"_They offered me a job," I say, excited, bouncing a little on the bed next to him. "They're only taking one of the interns on full-time, and they chose me."_

_I look up into his eyes, expecting to see excitement that matches my own, maybe pride. I was so proud of him when he was accepted into medical school last month. But his eyes are darker, his body stiff. I wrap my arms around him, loving the way I can feel him relax into my touch. _

"_So, what does that mean?" he asks. "Will you…would you move to New York after graduation?"_

_His hand is stroking my back, and I love the way it feels. I love the way he feels. I press my lips against his neck, kissing a little…sucking a little. He moans and pulls me closer._

"_They're giving me some time to make my decision," I say. "I wanted to talk to you. And I'll need to talk to Charlie before I decide anything for certain."_

_He relaxes even further, pulling me over his lap until I'm straddling his hips. And the way he looks at me takes my breath away. It's always the same. And still – even after almost four years – I melt into a puddle with just one look._

"_Are…" I start, biting my lip before pressing a small kiss against his soft lips. "Aren't you proud of me?"_

"_You're amazing," he breathes. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Bella. I knew…I knew they would choose you."_

_His words are exactly what I want to hear, but for some reason, they don't soothe me._

"_You're smart," he continues, "beautiful…amazing."_

_His hands have made their way under my shirt; they're rubbing and touching the bare skin of my back. I lean in and kiss him again – this time full and deep and wet. He groans into my mouth as his hands slide around and in between us. They push up my bra and cup my breasts. His thumbs graze across my nipples, and I gasp at how good it all feels. How he can make me feel this way – this needy and desperate for him – in such a short amount of time._

"_Your nipples are hard," he says against my lips. _

"_They like you," I giggle._

"_Yeah?" he asks, pushing up my shirt. _

_I lift my hands up, allowing him to take it off. And then he removes my bra before cupping my breasts again, leaning in and licking and kissing and sucking._

"_Yes," I breathe. Maybe I'm answering his question; maybe I'm just saying the only thing I'm capable of in the moment._

"_God, I love your body," he says, his tongue licking a long line between my breasts. _

_He bites down on the soft swell, and then he sucks the flesh into his mouth. Hard._

_So hard and so fucking good._

"_Just my body?" I pant._

_I'm mostly teasing, but a small part of me needs to know that he loves me the same way I love him._

_Completely._

_Wholly._

_Forever._

_He pulls his mouth from my breast. His lips are shiny and wet, and I can't help but notice the small cherry-colored mark on my breast. He notices it, too. His fingers slide against it whisper-soft._

"_You," he murmurs. "I love everything about you. Your breasts, your ass, your pussy…" He laughs a little, but then his face grows serious. "But mostly…mostly I love your heart."_

"_I love you, too," I whisper, overcome with his words and the intimacy of this moment. "I love you so much, Edward."_

"_What do you want?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the small bruise that's forming. "What do you want right now?"_

"_You," I tell him, meaning it completely, meaning it forever. "I want you."_

_I can feel him, long and hard and pressing up against me. I press myself down and rub against him._

"_Do you want me inside?" he whispers, his hand sliding down and cupping me through the denim of my jeans. "Do you want me right here?" Two fingers press and rub hard enough for me to feel it through the fabric. And I cling to him, never wanting to let him go. Never wanting to lose this – what we have – ever._

"_Yes," I tell him, standing up and removing the rest of my clothes. _

_He watches every movement, his eyes absorb every inch of naked skin. And then he undresses before pulling me back on top._

"_Take it," he says. "Take me…all the way inside. I want to feel you."_

_And reaching down, I do exactly what he says. Feeling every single inch of him, as he opens me, stretches me…loves me like only he can._

.

.

.

His eyes are staring back at me when I open mine.

"Edwa…" I gasp, but can't finish because as soon as I open my mouth, his hands are on me.

Pulling me to him, then pushing me back into the corner of the elevator.

"No," he rasps. "You walked away before. I'm not letting you walk away again."

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you. A million times, thank you all so much. I love your comments, your theories…and even your raging. And I am so grateful that you choose to spend any time reading my words. I adore you all.**

**Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…thank you for everything. For reading this, for telling me your thoughts, but mostly for being these wonderful sources of laughter and joy and friendship in my life.**

**Marvar, ILYSFM. I'm not feeling particularly funny, so I have no snarky words. But I want you to know that I couldn't do this without you. You are the peanut butter to my chocolate.**

**See you in the morning!**


	11. Chapter 11

May, 2012

"There was a ring on your finger," he says, but I can't think about his words. I can only focus on the fact that he's holding me. His hands are on me, and they haven't been in so long. "And I'm sorry I got angry. I'm sorry, Bella, but I need to know. I just…I need to know…everything. _Fuck_."

The dinging of the opening door startles both of us, and as he looks down at me, I see the realization of what's happening as it crosses his face.

He drops his hands and backs away.

I shudder and try to catch my breath.

Nervously, I step out behind him into the hall.

I don't want to take him to my room, but fuck me, I want to take him to my room.

He turns to me, his eyes are dark like his expression. I brace myself for what's about to come. I don't know what he's going to say; I don't know if he's going to touch me again. And if he does, I don't know if I'll be able to take it.

"Why did you come here?" he says, his voice pained and harsh. "Why, when I have spent the last ten years trying to understand what happened? Why I lost you?"

His words rip and tear at me. And suddenly, I'm defensive again.

"You know what happened," I tell him. "You know!"

"It was your choice," he says. "_Yours_. It _wasn't_ mine. It wasn't what I wanted. And now you're here…and it's like I'm living it all over again. It…it's like…"

"You're here, too," I interrupt him, both wanting and _not_ wanting him to finish his thought. "I didn't make you come. "

He laughs; it's a little bit hysterical.

"You think it wasn't _you_ that brought me here tonight?" he says lowly, almost as if he's trying to compose himself while he's speaking. "You think that there was any way that I wouldn't have come if there was even a slim possibility that _you_ would be here?"

"It's the same for me, Edward," I tell him. "It was the exact same thing for me. It's you! It's always, always been you. And not just the decision to come here. It's every decision. Every single fucking decision I've made!"

.

.

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May, 2002

"_You accepted?" he asks. "You told them yes?"_

_His eyes are hurt, and they hurt me as I look at him. _

_His hands that were holding mine are in his lap now. He pulled them away…he pulled himself away from me. And I'm not prepared for this. I'm not prepared for this reaction. I knew he would be upset, but this is Edward. This is my best friend – the love of my entire fucking life._

"_It's an opportunity I can't pass up," I tell him. "And I know it will be difficult, but…"_

"Difficult_?" he interrupts me. His voice is loud, really loud. And Edward has never raised his voice to me ever. "Difficult doesn't even begin to cover what this is – what this will be, Bella!"_

"_I know," I tell him softly, tears filling my eyes._

"_This is _four _years," he continues, not even really listening to me. "_Four fucking years_ of you living across the goddamn country while I'm in medical school! Four years without you."_

"_We will make it work," I tell him, my voice pleading. "I will come out to visit. There will be holidays and weekends. And we will talk all the time. Please, Edward. Please. Be reasonable."_

"_You're talking about living without me," he says. "You're _seriously_ talking about moving to New York and having an entire life without me. Why? How? How can you do this? I don't want random weekends. I don't want phone calls and emails. I want _you_, Bella. I want a life with _you_."_

_I choke out a sob, but somewhere inside me, the anger I'm feeling at his reaction surfaces._

"_I want a life with you, too," I tell him. "I want that so much, but why does everything have to be on your terms? This is my life…this is….this is what I want to do. Why can't we make this work?"_

"_You want this more than you want me," he says, his voice cracking, no longer shouting. _

_It only makes me cry harder._

"_I don't want _anything_ more than I want you," I tell him. "I love you so much. You…you're…you're everything."_

_He pulls me into his arms. He holds me tightly, closely. I feel his lips against my hair, I feel him kissing my temple and my wet cheeks. And he lets me cry while he whispers soothing things. While he tells me that he loves me and that he never wants to make me cry. _

_And I hold onto him. I cling to him, never wanting to let him go. Because I love him. I'm so completely in love with him and I need everything to be okay. _

"_I love you, Bella," he breathes. "So fucking much. I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry. I know you love me. I know it…I just…I just…"_

_I take several deep breaths, allowing the peace and contentment I feel in his arms settle over me. He's warmth and love and everything I find comforting and real._

_I look up at him through wet lashes. His thumbs stroke my cheeks, wiping away my tears. My hands find their way into his hair, and I scratch his scalp softly, loving how he lets me comfort him…love him._

"_We will make it work, Edward," I whisper. "You'll see."_

_He looks at me like I've slapped him. His eyes are wide and bright._

"_No," he whispers. "I thought…I mean… No." he says again. "You can't go."_

"_What do you mean I can't go?" I ask. "I have to go, Edward. You can't tell me _not_ to go. What do you expect me to do? I have to have a job. And this…this is more than a job. This is an opportunity for me to do what I want to do in my field."_

"_I can't, Bella," he says. "I can't be without you that long. Can't you even try to understand how I'm feeling?"_

"_Why?" I ask. "Why, when you are refusing to even think of me at all? This isn't just about you. This is about me, too. This is about us. Both of us."_

_I feel sick to my stomach. I feel like the lunch I had earlier is about to come back up. I swallow thickly, dryly. I fight against the sinking feeling that's trying to consume me._

"_Don't you see?" he whispers. "If you do this, if you make this choice and you leave me…" his voice cracks, and tears fill his eyes, "…there won't be an 'us' anymore."_

_His words are like a punch to my stomach. And I recoil, pulling away from him._

"_Are you saying that if I go to New York," I speak, but the words feel like acid on my tongue. "Are you saying if I go, that you won't…._want_ me anymore?"_

_A fresh wave of tears flood my eyes._

_And I don't want to look at him, but I find that I can't look away._

"_I'm saying…" he says, his voice sounding like he's swallowed crushed glass, "I'm asking you, Bella…I'm _begging_ you to choose me."_

.

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.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**You guys are making my life right now with your epic (yeah, I said it) your EPIC love for this story! Your theories have blown me away. Your raging and your flailing…gah! Thank you! ILY all so flipping much!**

**My pre-readers kick so much ass. You don't even know. I love each of them so much. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Rania…IFLY. Boob Gropes and squishy hugs!**

**Marvar, I don't know how many love notes I've left you at the end of chapters, but JFC, it's a lot. And the truth is: I would write you a million more. You deserve all the love in the world. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for almost three years of love and support. And thank you for putting up with me and my million story ideas. Maybe my brain will stop with the plot bunnies one day. **

**See you in the morning! **


	12. Chapter 12

May, 2012

We're standing in my room.

We couldn't argue in the hallway anymore.

Everything is tense – my body, his posture, the atmosphere surrounding us.

The low light of a table lamp illuminates the space, and I'm watching him appraise me. I wonder if he's still feeling what I know we both felt when he touched me before. I wonder if he's still hurting the same way I've been hurting without him for all these years.

But I don't really have to wonder that.

I know.

I see it…I feel it.

It's the same for him as it is for me.

"I was engaged," I whisper. His expression doesn't change, but I watch the muscles in his throat flex and move as he swallows. "That's…that's what the ring was."

I wait for him to speak, but he remains silent, unreadable.

"I tried," I whisper. "I tried so hard to move on. It took me years to even allow myself anything in my life that wasn't centered around work. I didn't want anyone else. I never wanted anyone else. Even after…"

I stop myself, unsure if he wants to hear all this. Unsure if he wants to know anything else at all.

He breathes; I hear him.

I stand before him, heart pounding and desperately wanting him to say something, anything at all.

"There was someone else," he whispers. And even across the space between, I hear each and every word. I feel every single emotion reflected in his anguished voice.

"Ten years," I whisper back. "It was ten years, Edward. I had to _try_ to move on, didn't I? Didn't you?"

His hands fist at his side; he closes his eyes and he breathes in and out for what seems like an eternity.

And I can't imagine him with another woman. I don't want to imagine his naked body, touching and kissing and fucking someone else. Not when I know that his body was made for mine. Not when I know how he feels – not when I've never ever forgotten what it's like to have him inside me.

"None of them were ever you," he says, his voice deep and soft. "None of them…no one was ever as good as you."

"I know," I tell him, the truth of his words hurting and healing me at the same time. "I felt so guilty for trying. Even…even after I met my fiancé…even after I'd accepted his proposal, I still felt guilty. I still felt like I was betraying you…betraying myself."

"Is he still…" he whispers, his voice drawing my eyes up to meet his. "Are you still…?"

"No," I whisper. "I called it off. A month ago. After a year of postponing it, I knew I had to call it off. That's why there's no ring. That's why you can still see where it was on my finger for so long."

"Bella."

He takes a step closer to me, but he stops. And kicking off my shoes, I decide to take a step – just one step – closer to him, too. I don't know what's going to happen. And even though I have desires, I have no expectations at all. All I know is that I want to be as close to him as he'll allow.

Even if he still has the power to break me all over again.

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May, 2002

_It's been two days and I haven't seen or heard from him._

_Charlie is here for my graduation._

_He's packed up everything in the dorm room I've lived in for four years._

_He keeps asking about Edward, but I can't talk about it._

_I think he knows now because he's making awkward and polite conversation about nothing of importance._

_Nothing else is important anyway._

_Edward made me choose. He told me it was him or nothing. And it wasn't fair – it isn't. Nothing about this is fair._

_I feel as though I'm doing the right thing…making the right decision. But how can what I know is right feel so entirely wrong? How could he do this to me?_

_And I wonder if he's somewhere close by, thinking the same thing._

_How could I do this to him?_

_Today is graduation._

_I know I'll see him there._

_I know I'll see his family, and he'll see my dad. And I know that all of them will have questions. But I have the most questions._

_How will I live without him?_

_How will I go for days and weeks and months and years…._

_I can't even finish the thought._

_All I can do is focus on the next thing. The next mundane task._

_And I do each thing with dutiful precision._

_I stand in the shower._

_I wash my hair._

_I put on clothes._

_And I take one step…and then another…and then another._

_He's here, but I can't see him._

_He's here, but I refuse to look._

_I can't._

_I hurt._

_My existence in this moment consists of breathing deeply and willing myself not to cry._

_I'll cry on the flight to New York._

_They call my name, and the earlier cycle repeats itself._

_I take one step…and then another…and then another._

_I'm holding my diploma, but I'm not holding his hand._

_And in a moment of panic, I realize that I'll never hold his hand again._

_My head shoots up and searches the crowd. And I see him. He's still the most beautiful person in the world. But he's not looking at me._

_His head is down._

_Avoiding and angry._

_And hurt from my decision._

_But he gave me no choice._

_He said I had to choose him, but I knew – I know – I had to choose myself._

_Tears fall down my cheeks and onto my graduation gown as I look away._

_I don't know if he saw me._

_I don't know if he looked._

_My heart breaks all over again, but I know I have to pick up the pieces._

_So, once again…I take one step…and then another…and then another._

_And I begin my life without Edward Cullen._

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.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much. You guys make this fun.**

**To all the girls who make my writing better – Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina – ILY. **

**Marvar, ILY too. So much, solemeat.**

**See you in the morning!**


	13. Chapter 13

May, 2012

Time stands still or a million moments pass.

But before I can breathe, before I can think, he's crossed the space and taken me into his arms. His mouth covers mine, and the passion inside his kiss, the force behind his groan is filled with the misery, the angst…the loneliness of being separated for the last ten years.

I fall into him.

He catches me.

And all of it's too much.

"Bella," he moans my name; I breathe his in return.

And sinking, sinking, sinking…I find myself submerged in everything he is. Everything he's always meant to me.

"I'm sorry," he says, breathless. He scatters kisses on my lips, my cheeks. "I'm so fucking sorry."

And I feel like I'm drowning in his words, his touch, his kiss. And I can't. I need to breathe. I need to stop. I need to know, to understand so much more than I understand right now.

"Please," I say, finding my voice, my breath. "Please…just…just stop."

Everything stills – his hands, his mouth.

He looks down at me, stricken. And I'm afraid that he'll let me go, but I don't want him to. I don't want him to pull away. I just want some time, a moment to process. I wrap my arms around his waist, clinging to him, holding onto him like he's the last ounce of hope in the entire world.

And right now, that's exactly what he feels like.

"I don't," he whispers, his breathing hard as it blows across my skin. "I don't want to fuck up here, Bella. I don't want to do…to say the wrong thing. I don't think you understand what it would do to me if I fucked up again."

"I do, Edward," I tell him. "I understand regret. I understand regret more than I can possibly tell you. _We_ fucked up. _Both of us_. It wasn't just you, but it wasn't just me either." My face is pressed against his sternum. And I think I'm realizing that he's not going to pull away. So, I take in a shaking, shuddering breath, trying to calm my heart down. "I'm scared. I'm _so_ scared right now, and I need to know what this means. I need to know what you're thinking. What you've _been_ thinking for the last ten years. What you've been thinking since the moment you…" I stop, thinking better of the words that are on the tip of my tongue. But they're there. They're in my heart. And I realize that he needs to hear them just as much as I need to say them. "Since the moment you let me walk away from you."

His hand slowly makes its way up my back and into my hair. I can feel the heat of his palm against the nape of my neck. I can feel how…how fucking right all of this is.

This is what I've been missing.

_He_ is what I've been missing.

"I didn't want to let you go," he breathes. "I…I never wanted to lose you. And if I could go back and do it all again...it would be so different. I would be so different. "

His words make me cry – full-on sob – against his chest.

And while I've wanted to hear him say those very words to me, somehow, right now, they're not enough.

"I loved you." The words spill hard and fast from my lips. "I loved you so much. And I wanted so much to make it work. And I wanted you to want to make it work, too. When you told me that it was you or nothing, you made me question everything we had, Edward. Everything that we shared."

"I couldn't see past the pain," he says, pulling me closer. "I couldn't get over you not wanting to be with me."

"I _did_ want to be with you," I cry. "I just wanted to build something of my own, too. But I…I wanted you. I _always_ wanted you."

"I know I was selfish...even then, I knew...but I was just so scared of losing you. Four years seemed like too much. And it took me so long...too long to realize that four years was nothing. Four years was fucking _nothing_ compared to an entire life without you."

This only makes me cry harder.

His words…I can't imagine that he means them.

I wait for him to pull away. I know that it's going to happen. I know that things can't be this easy. I've spent my entire adult life knowing that you just don't get everything that you want. But he doesn't pull away. He just holds me.

"Shhh," he whispers. "Bella, please…please, calm down."

He reaches behind us and takes my hand. And he leads me over to the foot of the bed. I can't even look at him as we walk. My eyes stay focused on the way his fingers are gripping mine.

"You asked me what I've been thinking since you left," he starts. He reaches out, his hand touches the bottom of my chin and he nudges my face up so that he can look at me. "But I'd like…if you'll let me, I'd like to tell you first what I've been thinking since I walked in the bar tonight and saw you."

I nod my head and we sit down together. His hand is still holding mine, and I take a deep, cleansing breath when I feel the mattress dip as he scoots closer to me.

"I didn't want to come tonight," he says. "All day long, I fought it. What I said in the hall was true. There was no way I wasn't coming. Just the possibility that you might be here was a force I could never fight."

His eyes are soft now, I notice.

The way he's looking at me – though familiar – is so different than before in the bar.

"I wanted you to come," I whisper. "I…I didn't know if you would. And I tried to tell myself that I would be okay if you didn't, but I…I hoped."

He smiles, but it's sad. It's laced with pain, and I can't help the way it makes me ache.

"I watched you from the door for I don't know how long before I approached you," he says. "A part of me couldn't believe that you'd actually come. I'd convinced myself that you wouldn't." He laughs, but nothing is funny. "Or…I thought that maybe you would come with someone else. That you would be married…that some other man would be living the life that was supposed to be mine."

I laugh now, but it's still not funny.

"I thought that, too," I tell him. "I was so afraid that you might come with some…some perfect woman. Some perfect wife."

His eyes regard me, as his hand reaches out and strokes my cheek. I can't help but lean into his touch, even though I still think it might hurt me later.

He starts to say something, but stops. And I'm too nervous to ask him what he's thinking. His thumb traces a line across my bottom lip that's still tingling from our kiss before. And it strikes me as I feel it, that I just kissed Edward for the first time in over ten years.

"I meant what I said before," he tells me, his hand sliding down to my neck. "No one else was you, Bella. You…you have always been the perfect woman."

His words are too much, and his face, his breath…he is too close. His hand squeezes mine so fucking softly. His eyes burn me with their intensity…and I feel him. I feel everything. And then, he whispers my name. It's a question, a pleading request…

And I want to tell him yes.

I want to…but I don't.

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**So, I'll just be over here waiting to hear what you guys think… Thank you so much for all the love, for well…just everything. I love this fandom so much. Every single one of you pervy girls who read my words, tweet with me, talk with me and share my love off all things Twi.**

**My pre-readers make my life! Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina. Yeah…IFLY. **

**Marvar, I love you more than the Saved by the Bell gang loved hanging at the Max. Thank you for everything, solemeat. **

**See you in the morning!**


	14. Chapter 14

May, 2012

"What if I'm not the same woman anymore?" I ask. "And I'm not perfect. I've never been perfect."

He doesn't release me. One hand still holds mine tightly, while the other strokes my neck.

"Not perfect," he murmurs. "But perfect for me."

My lips tremble at his words; my heart wants to explode inside me.

"Do you know what I was thinking when we were downstairs?" he asks, taking me by surprise. "I looked across at you. I couldn't…I can't…," he pauses, licks his lips. And I watch, completely mesmerized by the action. "I can't get over just how beautiful you are now. I was thinking that you…you're Isabella now."

I don't know what he's thinking. And he's never – not once – called me Isabella.

"You were a woman with me," he continues, swallowing. And even in the low light, I can see his neck, his cheeks bloom red. "You…_became_ a woman with me." His hand slides down from my neck to the exposed skin of my chest. He has to feel how hard and fast my heart is beating. I wonder if his is the same. "But so much of you was still a girl then. You were…we were so young. But not now…you're…_fuck_…"

"What?" I whisper. His words are beautiful, confusing.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Bella," he says, his fingers pressing into me, his words igniting something inside me that has been dark and cold for so long. "And I thought you were settled…happy."

"I'm not," I admit.

I bring my hand up to cover his. Maybe it's because I want to reach out to him in some real way; maybe it's because I want to hold him to me like this forever.

"Me either."

The truth of our words settle around us. And as sad as all of this is, as sad as all of it has been, I can't help but cling to the flicker of hope that's burning inside me. I'm sitting here with Edward. This moment is real. This isn't some dream, some late night imagination that I've created in my mind.

He is real.

His hand in mine is real.

And he's touching me for real.

And it's so much better than I remember.

"I…I missed you," I tell him.

The words aren't enough. They don't convey the emptiness I've felt without him. But it's the truest thing I can think of to say.

"I missed you every day," he says. His hand turns inside mine. His fingers slide between my fingers. His eyes meet mine before he leans down and then, he presses a kiss against the back of my hand. "Every day. I was so fucking lost without you."

"Edward," I whisper.

He looks back to me.

I'm holding my breath.

"I've already told you," he says. "I don't want to do the wrong thing. But right now…right now, I really want to kiss you. And I won't if you don't want me to, but Bella, I…"

I grip his hands so tightly. I'm scared that he'll do it. I'm terrified that he won't.

"I think you really want me to," he tells me, moving closer. "Will you let me, Bella? Can I kiss you?"

And with his words, my mind is taken back to a place almost thirteen years ago. Me and Edward sitting on a bed, and a question - the same question - hanging in the air. Only it was me that time. I was the one asking. Filled with the emotion of the memory, I whisper the only thing I can.

"Yes."

His lips are on mine, his hands move to my hair. He's pulling me against him, and I fall to pieces. He licks and groans and sucks, and I take him, his desire, his need…and give him all that I have in return.

_Everything._

My hands press against his chest, and I find that his heart really is beating exactly like my own. And I don't know why, but that settles me and soothes me in a way that finally, _finally_ allows me to sink into him.

And god, he tastes like cream and sugar added to the ten bitter years I've spent without him. And it's sweet, it's good. It's so fucking good.

He moans into my mouth. I whimper. And before I realize what's happening, he's taking me, pulling me, and pressing me against the bed beneath us.

I don't stop to think about what's happening. I can't begin to fathom what will happen after. And I don't know if it's because of all the years I've spent without him, or if it's just that he's here. He's _actually_ here with me. Finally. After so fucking long. But I know that I need him, want him...more than I think I ever have.

His mouth pulls away from mine, but then I feel his tongue and the tender bite of his teeth as he moans against my neck, "Bella, oh god...oh, please..."

His body is over me, his hands on me...everywhere. My eyes are closed, and I can't open them because I'm almost afraid that this is a dream, a fantasy I've replayed over and over in my mind for the last ten years.

My arms reach around him in an attempt to pull him closer, but he's already so close, so warm...so _everything_ I need him to be right now. My name is a thousand whispers on his lips, and if I tried a million times, I would never be able to tell him what this means to me.

What _he_ means to me.

What he has always, always meant to me.

"I can't," he rasps, his voice rough in my ear. "I don't...I can't...I won't be able to stop..."

And I know, as I hear the need in his voice that matches my own, that I don't want him to.

"Please," I whimper, I beg. "Please, Edward..."

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes searching mine. There's pain and relief and more questions than I have answers.

But I can answer one.

"Please, don't stop."

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.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**I feel like a broken record, but I have to tell you thank you. Thank you for making me smile every single day with your thoughts and words and love. And thank you for reading. ILY all.**

**Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…you're all priceless to me. And I adore you.**

**As always, Marvar is the syrup to my pancakes. So in other words, she's what makes me better. I love her more than anything!**

**See you in the morning!**


	15. Chapter 15

May, 2012

I force myself to look at him - force myself to acknowledge what I just asked. There's so much fire in his eyes, so much need. And I know that after this, there will be no going back, but I also know that I would never want to.

"Fuck," he moans. "Oh, god...oh, Bella."

"Please, Edward," I say, my voice shaking. "I want you so much…you don't know."

"Oh, baby, Bella," he whispers, his breath blowing across my face. "I do...I do..."

He's kissing me again; the way he's touching me is frantic, desperate. His hands are everywhere - gripping me, pulling me, touching every area of exposed skin that he can find. And it's the same for me.

This isn't the way I remember it. Being with him was always tender and sweet, soft and gentle. But I need him this way. Right now, I need him to touch me like he hasn't touched me in ten years.

Because he hasn't.

And I need to know that his desperation matches my own, that he wants this as much as I do.

His hands reach down and slide up my thighs, pushing up my dress, and grabbing my hips. My legs spread, opening wide, allowing him to settle between them.

Because this is where he belongs.

This is where he's always belonged.

His fingers slide underneath my panties, his nails digging into the flesh of my ass. I cry out, and for just a moment, I can't help but wonder what he thinks about the fuller curves of my body. I'm so different now than I used to be. A little bigger, a lot softer. But it's almost like he reads my mind because he groans into my neck, "I can't...fuck...you feel so good."

"You feel good, too," I tell him because it's the truth.

His mouth finds my neck, and he sucks. Hard. His hands life me up, he presses against me, and I can feel his cock, hard and pushing against me, even through the layers of our clothes.

He thrusts.

Once.

Twice.

And I find that I'm pushing myself up against him, wanting, seeking, meeting what I know he has to give me.

And then suddenly he stills, his eyes seek out mine, and he lowers me softly to the bed. His hand side from underneath me; they rest on my belly for just a moment. "You're here," he breathes before kissing me softly on the lips, my cheeks, my neck. "You're really here with me."

I can only nod my head. Tears threaten to spill out, while his hands trace slowly, deliberately along the lines and curves of my body.

"Do you know how many times I've dreamed of this?" he says, his voice trembling. "And now that you're here...now that..." He shakes his head. He places it against my chest.

I hold him close to me, wanting to keep him near, wanting to hear what he has to say. But I also want _him_. Just him. I _want_ to talk to him. I want to tell him everything about the last ten years. And I want to know what he's been doing, what he's been thinking, what he was thinking all those years ago when he forced me to choose. But for now, I need him.

Just him.

Just like this.

He settles over me, but I can feel him, still aroused and pressing against me there. Right where I want him. But it's the weight of him against me that affects me the most. Solid and strong and here and real.

"Please," I whisper. "Please, Edward…"

My lips seek out his neck, his skin. And I kiss his, taste him, feel him against my tongue.

"Fuck," he moans. "You want this?" he asks, pushing up on his elbows and pulling away from me, looking down at me. I know I should meet his eyes, but I can see the wet shine on his skin where my mouth was. "Tell me," he says.

I look up at him and tell him, "Yes. I want this."

He kisses me hard and deep, his mouth taking, claiming, owning every piece of me that has always belonged to him anyway.

"Because I _want_ this, Bella," he tells me, panting. "I want this…want you so fucking much. But I can't…I just…"

"What?" I ask, my heart pounding, my body needing.

"I want to fuck you, Bella," he breathes, wincing at his words. "_Fuck_… I just…I want to take you right now. I want you naked and underneath me. I want to be deep inside you, but I can't. I won't. Not if…"

He trails off as he continues to look at me. His expression is as intense as his words. And I can't look away. I can't bear it if he pulls away from me right now. I can't breathe, I can't speak.

He doesn't either.

"Not if it's only for tonight," he finally says. "I can't do this. I can't be with you…like this…if it's only for one night. It will kill me, Bella. As much as I want to, as much as I fucking _need_ you…if this is only about here and now, I can't…I can't do it."

He takes in a deep breath and holds it after he speaks. His eyes never leave mine, and there's something about this moment that renders me immobile, chained to everything he is. Everything he has been. Everything I still want him to be.

His words wash over me, his own needs and wants, his beautiful, desperate honesty. I hear them a thousand times in my mind. They're the same. Every single time. I open my mouth. I lick my lips. I take a shallow breath and give him the same honesty in return. And I only hope he finds my words as beautiful, as truthful as his.

"I don't know what will happen when this is over," I say, reaching up to touch his chest. "But none of this is fleeting, Edward. You have never _ever_ been fleeting."

His heart beats under my fingers.

His breath blows cool across my face.

"What are you saying?" he whispers.

I know in this moment, I can choose to keep my thoughts inside. I could hold onto my fear instead of holding onto him. But I don't want to do that anymore because I know the reason I came here tonight. I know the secret hopes and dreams I held inside of me.

I came here for him.

"You…you're…" I try to tell him, but I choke up. I reach up to touch his face, searching for the perfect words. But there's only one. I can only hear one. "Always."

He whimpers and then kisses me. It's hard and soft and deep and wet. My fingers curl around the fabric of his sweater, as his hands slide under me, lifting me up.

He kisses and licks and sucks my neck.

He whispers words I can't make out, but I know that I don't need to. And then he pulls back one more time. He holds me as he looks at me, and then he says, "Take it off."

"What?" I breathe, I hope.

"Everything."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Gah! Thank you all so much! You make me smile non-stop! So, I'll just be over here…waiting to know what you think. ILY**

**Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…you are the most wonderful, beautiful women ever. Thank you will never be enough.**

**Marvar, you're the Genie to my Aladdin – the one with all the magic. And I'm so happy I found you and rubbed your bottle. I love you, solemeat. Thank you for everything!**

**See you in the morning!**


	16. Chapter 16

May, 2012

Naked.

Both of us are naked.

Removed of everything…just like he asked.

I don't want to stare at him – at his body – but I find that I can't stop. I look. I take every line of him in with my eyes. Beautiful. He's still so fucking beautiful. The lean lines of his muscles, the smooth skin that covers it. Older, yes, but still completely breathtaking. My memories of him – the ones I thought were so sharp and vivid – were nothing compared to the reality of him.

The flesh and blood and breath before me.

He kneels in front of me on the bed, allowing my eyes their fill. And maybe watching me in return. And even though I feel exposed, even though I wonder what he thinks of my body now, when I look in his eyes, my mind stops. His eyes are hungry, needing. His eyes are like mine.

He reaches out; his hand touches my face. It trembles against my hot skin. It makes me tremble, too.

It makes me tremble _more_.

"Beautiful," he whispers. "You're still…you've always been so fucking beautiful, Bella."

He comes closer.

He breathes.

I whimper.

And he slowly – so very slowly – pushes me down to the bed.

His hands trace lines over my body. His touch tentative, but also determined.

Seeking.

Exploring.

Learning…all over again.

It's still the same. The way I respond to him is still the same. My body knows his touch. Wants it. Needs it so desperately that I literally shake beneath his fingers. He cups my breasts. The fuller swells that used to just fill his hands now spill over. I watch him as he looks, groans. And I gasp as he leans in and takes one into his mouth, sucking hard while he still holds, still pushes, still touches my other breast.

My head falls back against the pillow. My eyes close because the sensation is just too much. And he kisses me, sucks me, licks long lines between my breasts, tiny circles around my nipples.

"God," he moans against my skin. His breath is hot and wet against me. "Your body, Bella…your breasts. So full and soft…and I…god, I just can't…"

My legs spread. Wider. My hands that are gripping the sheets move up and around him. Pulling him closer. I need him so much fucking closer. He groans again. I can feel the hard length of his cock as it presses against me. Almost there, right where I want him. I move and lift and try to press against him, but he stops me.

He kisses me.

Hard.

Slow.

Deep.

He says my name, and the way he says it, the way it sounds… It's like my name is the only word that he knows.

His hand moves from my breast to my heart, staying there for just the smallest hint of a moment. And before I know what's happening, he takes me in his arms and flips us both over until I am laying on top of him, looking down into his dark green eyes.

"On top," he tells me. His voice is low, but clear. "Right now I want you on top of me. I want to see you, Bella. Moving…" He licks his lips as his hands slide down to grab my ass. "Fuck…moving on top of me….over me…your breasts…they're so…and you're…"

His words are running together. He sounds as frenetic as I feel. But there's something about the way he's talking, trying to tell me what he wants. It makes me want to do whatever, be whatever he needs.

I kiss him. Slower this time, still not sure if I believe that all this is really happening. My tongue slips in his mouth and I taste him. And he sucks it inside as his hands squeeze my rounded flesh.

"Tell me," I whisper, wanting to know, needing to hear him say it. "What do you want?"

I feel his fingers slowly slide up and down my ass. It makes me squirm. It makes me fucking wet.

He looks at me.

He sucks in a deep breath.

He breathes it out in one long gust.

His hand reaches down lower.

His finger strokes me _there_ – his touch as tender as I am sensitive.

And then he speaks.

"Straddle me."

With one more kiss and no more words, I push against his chest and raise myself up. My eyes never leave his, and his eyes never leave my body. I see him take in every inch. I watch him, knowing the moment he sees me spread my legs, my pussy. And I pause, letting him look, letting him see what he's done to me.

How wet I am.

How much I want him.

I reach down and take him in my hand. He's thick and long and hard, even bigger than I remember, but I know what he feels like. And I know he's made to fit inside me.

"Don't," he pants. "Not inside. Not yet. I won't be able to last, Bella. It's been too...it's been so fucking long. And I know...I just know how good you're gonna feel. I know...fuck, I remember what it feels like to be inside your body...your pussy."

There's a vulnerability in his voice that pulls at me, pulls at the woman who fell in love with him when we were young – the same woman that continued to love him all this time.

"What do you want?" I whisper, remembering all the times we were together before when he would ask me the same question. Because he wanted to know what I wanted, what made me feel good. "Tell me, Edward. I swear to god, I'll give you anything. Just tell me."

He gulps.

"Say it," I whisper.

"Ride me," he murmurs. "I want you to ride me soft and sweet and slow, Bella. I want to feel your pussy rub against me while I kiss you...while I suck your breasts. I want to watch you move above me. Over me. I want to feel you in my hands, and fuck me...I want to know that this is real."

I lean over him, my pussy wet and open as it rubs over his cock. I grind down, once…twice. And he gasps as he takes my breasts in his hands, pushing up, squeezing hard. And then I whisper, "This is real."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you to each of you. Everyone reading, tweeting or taking the time to leave me a review. They really make my day. ILY girls. So freaking much.**

**My pre-readers are the shit. They never tell me to STFU when I send them chapter after chapter. And they make me smile all the goddamn time. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…ILY.**

**Marvar…seriously. There are no words for what you mean to me. I have none. Well, non that have already been said. Except to say that I love you more than the wolf pack loves jorts and baby oil. You know…to make their abs shiny. Thank you, solemeat.**

**See you in the morning!**


	17. Chapter 17

May, 2012

His cock is sliding between the lips of my pussy...deep red against the pink of my flesh. Wet - everything is wet. And with my hands bracing myself on his shoulders, I watch the movement as it repeats over and over again. His breathing is hard and deep, but comes in short gasps and long pulls each and every time I stroke him with myself.

I want to watch what's happening, partly because I still can't believe it, partly because it's so much better than the dreams I've had about this over the years. But my eyes lift to his for just a moment, and I'm lost to the way that he watches me...watches us.

He's looking at me; his eyes are shifting back and forth between my pussy and my breasts. And every question I had that wondered if he still found me beautiful is lost inside his expression.

Right now, he's making me feel beautiful.

Right now, I'm the most beautiful thing in the world.

And I can't help but remember that Edward always made me feel like that. He always looked at me exactly like he's looking at me right now.

Even though the room is quiet, I'm overwhelmed with sound. The sound of our skin sliding and pressing and pushing against each other, the sound of my breasts as they bounce with my movement. And the sound of his breathing...the sound of my heart that beats so loudly in my ears. But his voice pushes through all that.

"You feel so good," he pants. "So...god, it's so fucking good."

He reaches up with his hands as he leans forward. And I'm surrounded by sensation, by touch. Wet heat as he licks and sucks me and the almost too-hard pressure as he grips me. And it's too much. It's too fucking much. I can't bear it. My body stills, as I try to absorb what he's doing.

"Don't stop," he whispers in between my breasts, then biting down gently on the full swell.

I cry out because it hurts and it's good and I don't know if I can do what he's asking.

"Please, Bella...don't stop moving," he continues. "You...you said you would give me anything. And I need this. I need you like this so fucking much."

"Please, Edward," I cry out. "Inside...I need you inside."

He kisses my breast one more time, sucking hard and then licking soft. And then he looks at me. I lean into him, my forehead pressing against his. I can feel his breath, can taste his tongue as he kisses me. Sucking, licking...wet.

"Shhh... Lean back," he whispers in my ear. And even though I'm hot, I shiver. "Lean back and let me see you. Let me make this good. I want to make this so good."

His tongue sweeps along the shell of my ear and his teeth bite down on my lobe.

I shudder.

I breathe.

And then I do what he's asking of me.

I feel open as I lean back. My breasts are still wet from his mouth and shining in the light. My nipples are hard and swollen, and I wonder if this is what he's seeing as he looks at me.

His eyes slide down...lower. There. He's looking at me there and I want to see what he sees, but I'm drawn to the movement of his hand as it reaches out. It slides up the length of my open thigh so slowly. And I feel his cock pulse between my lips. I moan. It's loud, but I'm too lost to care or be embarrassed. I need what he's going to do too much.

And then he touches me.

There.

He touches us, and I tremble and shake from the contact.

My hands grip his thighs, and leaning back further, opening up wider, my pink, wet skin measures the trail of his fingers in spasms and shivers.

I whisper his name over and over...begging him to stop or to never ever stop again.

"Do you know what you look like to me?" he says, his voice rough. "Do you...can you...do you even know how many times I've dreamed about this...about you...about being with you like this again?"

I can't speak. And it's not because I don't know. It's because I do.

"It's the same for me," I tell him, surprised by the tears in my shaking voice.

His hand strokes and covers me there. His fingers spreading me even as I feel his cock still pressed against me.

"I like this," he whispers. I feel his fingers gently stroking me on the outside. "I like that you kept this." He gently tugs as the soft brown hair at the top of my pussy. "This is how I remember you. This...this..." He shakes his head and licks his lips. "Your pussy was always perfect...it's beautiful."

"Edward," I breathe...I shake and I cry.

"Do you know what it does to see me inside you like this?" he continues. "Do you know how it makes me feel to see you surrounding my cock? Didn't you ever dream about this?"

"Yes," I say. "Oh, god...Edward..."

His finger strokes my clit...softly. I moan and squirm and grind myself against him.

"You like it here soft," he whispers. "I remember, Bella. I remember every single time...every single moment we were together."

"Me, too," I whimper, as he rubs me a little bit harder.

"Did you want this?" he continues. And even though I don't want to focus on his words, I try, I do. "When you came here tonight...when you saw me...did you imagine me doing this? Did you think about me touching you like this? Loving you like this?"

His middle finger presses against me hard.

I shake.

I cry.

The word 'love' floats inside my mind.

Doesn't he know? Doesn't he know that I've always, always loved him?

"Come for me," he whispers. "Come on my hand, Bella. And then I want you to come all over my cock."

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you to all of you who brighten my day with your sweetness, your love, your humor and your words. I adore you all. So much.**

**I am unapologetic for the story I've written. It is mine. My words. Written exactly the way I wanted them. You don't have to read them if you don't like them. That's the beauty of choice. **

**Thank you to my pre-readers for being the most special group of people that I know. Exceptional, intelligent, beautiful and wonderful women. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…you mean the world to me.**

**Marvar – I love you, appreciate you and need you so much more than you need me. Thank you for being the most exceptional woman of all.**

**See you in the morning!**


	18. Chapter 18

May, 2012

I'm lying against his chest, and my body is still shaking from my orgasm. Edward is holding me close and kissing my temple over and over again. I can still feel him hard and pressing against me, but as much as I want him, I don't think I can do anything else right now.

I don't know if it's the release of all the sexual tension I was holding, but everything seems more real in this moment. And even though I told him that it wasn't, I'm scared that all of it is fleeting.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs against my damp hair. "Even more…even more now."

I press myself closer against him, burying my face in his neck. I breathe him in; I feel his heart beat against mine. I wrap my arms tighter, wanting to be closer…as close as possible. I wish I could just crawl inside him.

"What?" he whispers. "Bella? What's going on?"

I don't know if I should tell him what I'm thinking. I don't want to scare him with my thoughts. But the sound of his voice pulls at me, rips me apart piece by piece. And I know that I've gone too long, come too far not to be honest with him now.

I press a wet kiss against his skin. And even though he's salty with our sweat, he's still the sweetest taste I've ever known. "Every night," I whisper, thinking about his words from before and glad that he can't see me. "I dreamed about you every single night. I thought about you every single day. Even….even when I tried not to."

It's a funny thing to be so close to someone – to be as intimately connected as we are right now – and still feel the need to hide. I wonder where the fear is coming from, but I don't have to wonder. Not really. I know where my fears lie deep inside me.

And that's the truth.

The real fucking truth.

I'm scared.

Scared that when this is all over, he'll walk away again. Even though his actions and words and body are telling me something different.

"I loved you," I whisper. The moment I say the words, I regret them. Past tense isn't right…it's a lie. I don't love him in the past. I mean, I did love him in the past, but I've loved him every day since. He's never ever left my heart. It's always belonged to him. "I'm…I'm scared."

I feel his muscles tense underneath me; his heartbeat speeds, his grip on me tightens. He lets out a long breath, and I can tell he wants me to look at him, but I'm not sure I'm ready to do that yet. Not really sure that I can.

"What are you afraid of?" he whispers, his voice thick and filled with longing and pain. Maybe regret.

I kiss him again because I can. Because he's still here and holding me in his arms, and if I'm honest with myself, I kiss him again because I'm not sure how long I have to do it.

And then I speak.

"I'm afraid that once this is all over," I start, swallowing my fear, "I'm afraid that this is it."

We lay in silence for what seems like forever, both of us breathing, both of us clinging.

"I told you," he whispers softly, "I told you that I wanted more than tonight."

A tear slips down my cheek and falls onto his naked skin. I wonder if he feels it. I wonder…so many things.

"Ten years ago…" My voice is thick. But I have to say it. I need to say it. "You told me you would love me forever. And then you left. We both left, and I never got over it. Even though I tried, I never ever got over you."

Another tear.

And then another.

I breathe in and out and I wait for him to say something…anything at all.

"Look at me," he breathes. "Please, Bella. Please…I need to look at you when I say this."

His body is still so warm. It still covers every inch of my naked skin. It still comforts me. His hands are on my back, holding me close. And I don't want to move. I don't know what his eyes will hold when I look at him again.

Another kiss.

And then another.

I pull back and look in his eyes. The intensity scares me a little, but it also makes me burn. Edward was always intense when we were together, but this is different. He's so much different now than when we were young. Although, I guess that I am, too. Both older…and hopefully, we're both a little wiser.

"I was so stupid," he says, reaching out to cup my face in his palms. I feel his warmth, I hear his words. "I wish I could change it. I wish I would have been different, said the right thing…done the right thing. But I didn't. And I've had to live with that for a long time."

"It was a long time," I whisper.

"Too long," he whispers back.

His thumbs stroke across my cheeks, wiping away my tears. He shifts beneath me, and I feel him soft and slipping out of where I'm still wet. And I ache from the loss. Not just the loss of him there, but everything. Especially all the lost time.

The question I want to ask is on the tip of my tongue, yet that's impossible because I feel like I'm choking on it. I look at him, searching his face, his eyes. They're open and deep and I know, I just know that if I ask him, the words will hurt. And I've never wanted to hurt him. Not once. Not even after he hurt me.

"There's something else," he whispers. The concern in his voice breaks me just a little, but it also lets me know that maybe, just maybe…he'll be around this time to help me heal. "Tell me."

I swallow.

I breathe.

I want to kiss him one more time.

But I don't.

"Why?" I ask. "If you really felt like that, if you knew you made a mistake…why, Edward? Why didn't you ever come to find me?"

.

.

.

**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**I know...I know. I'm a cockblocking whore. But you know I'll make it good, right? Thank you for the love. Genuinely. I am truly the most blessed writer in the fandom. And I can't tell you what your support means to me.**

**As always, love and thanks to my pre-readers. I couldn't do this without you guys.**

**And love and thanks to Marvar for always making my words better!**

**See you in the morning!**


	19. Chapter 19

May, 2012

My words are out there.

I can't take them back.

They lie between us.

But before I have a chance to feel their divide, Edward's mouth covers mine.

This kiss isn't any deeper or more passionate than the ones we've shared up until this moment, but something about it is different. Something about this kiss seems like he's reaching for me, pulling me back, not letting me slip away this time. And I moan into his mouth, surprised by my own reaction, my body's own admission of how much I need this.

How much I need him to fight for me this time.

He takes me in his arms and rolls us over so I'm no longer sitting on top of him. He pulls back just a little and looks at me – really fucking looks at me.

I'm holding my breath.

I'm waiting.

"I should have come for you," he tells me. "I should have never let you leave in the first place." He shakes his head; his eyes darken. "No…that's not right," he continues, his words slower now. "I never should have made you choose. But I was so young, Bella. _We were so young_. I fucked up because I didn't want to be without you. And in the end, I lost you…for good."

And I want to tell him that he didn't lose me for good. That I'm here with him now…that moment didn't end us completely. I want to tell him everything that's bubbling up inside me. I want to kiss him the way he just kissed me. I want to do so many things, but I realize that he still didn't answer my question.

"Then why didn't you come?" I ask again. "And I promise I'm not trying to place all the blame on you, Edward. I swear to god, I'm not. Maybe it should have been me…maybe…" I trail off, thinking of my words. Because the truth is I don't think it should have been me. He was the one who said it was over. He was the one who said there wouldn't be an 'us' anymore if I left.

"Because," he says softly, his voice filled with a thousand pains, a million regrets. "Because by the time I got over being angry…" he looks at me, his eyes softer now. "I'm sorry…if it hurts you to know that I was angry. But I was. I know it wasn't right and it was completely unjustified. But it's the truth. I was so fucking angry. The entire time I was in medical school."

His fingers trace my lips. I have to stop myself from kissing him. I want to hear his words. I want to know his side of our story.

"But when the anger settled," he continues, "when it finally went away…all I was left with was this emptiness. This…this hole inside me that made me ache. I missed you," he whispers. My heart breaks. "I missed you…and I…I loved you. I wanted to come. I did, Bella. You have to believe me. But it had been years. And I didn't think…I didn't think I had the right. I didn't think you'd even talk to me."

He laughs, only I don't know what's funny.

He laughs, and I realize nothing is funny at all.

It's bitter.

"And," he continues, his thumb stroking my cheek, "I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it if I'd come and you were with someone else. So, I was selfish. I'm sorry that I've always been so selfish."

I'm watching him, and I don't want him to be sad. Hasn't there been enough sadness? Hasn't there been enough regret to last us another lifetime? I think there has.

"Not always…" I whisper. "You weren't always selfish."

"I wasn't?"

I can't tell if the speculation in his voice is sarcastic or sincere.

"You were my first real friend," I whisper. "My best friend in the world."

My fingers brush against the stubble on his jaw. His eyes close for a moment as he presses his face against my palm.

"I thought you were beautiful," he whispers back, his body moving in closer, holding me tighter. "From the very first time I saw you."

I smile just thinking about that memory.

"You walked me home that night," I tell him. "That's not selfish."

"I wanted to hold your hand," he says. "See? Selfish."

"You gave me my first kiss when I asked you," I tell him. "That wasn't selfish."

"I'd wanted to kiss you forever," he tells me. "Selfish."

His hands slide down my back and grip my ass. My leg wraps around his as I press myself in closer, kissing him on the neck. He hums, he breathes…I smile.

I want.

I want him.

"You made me…come for the first time," I whisper in his ear, surprised that the words and memory make me blush. "So many times. You were _never_ selfish."

"I loved watching you come," he whispers back. "And tonight…watching you…feeling you…_fuck_."

His voice makes me shiver or maybe it's the memory. But I feel him pressed against me. He's hard. Again. His body is all heat and warmth and everything I need and want from him right now.

"I was selfish in the end," he murmurs sadly in my ear. I pull him closer, wanting him to know, to feel that I think we can move past this. I hope we can move past this. "But I guess…I guess the question is, can you forgive me?"

"It wasn't the end," I whisper as fiercely as I can manage. I pull back just slightly so I can see him…and he can see me. "We're here now…so it wasn't the end." I bite down hard on my lip, thinking…but then I speak quickly so I don't scare myself out of saying the words. "And I think…no…" I shake my head. "I know…I forgave you the moment I decided I was coming. Maybe even before that. I knew what I wanted when I came here. I just didn't know if you wanted the same thing."

My heart pounds.

So does his.

"What do you want, Bella?" he asks, his voice low and thick.

And this is the moment.

Ten years and twenty-five hundred miles have separated us. Broken hearts and words that never should have been said. Defensive walls were built on both sides, but they're falling down in pieces around us. And we're here…_he's_ here. He's asking me what I want, and the answer is so simple I could cry with the absurdity of it.

"Don't you know?" I ask, my voice filled with too much emotion to bear.

"I need you to tell me."

He waits for me to speak, but I'm through with waiting.

"I want you, Edward," I breathe. "I've always, always wanted you."

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you. It's not enough, and I know I sound like a broken record, but really…thank you all so much. I adore you all. Thank you for reading my words.**

**My pre-readers are amazing. I love them. I couldn't do this without them.**

**I love Marvar more than Ryan Seacrest loves shoe lifts and spray tans. Thank you for everything, solemeat.**

**See you in the morning!**


	20. Chapter 20

December, 2012

The bed dips.

Through the haze of lingering sleep and a dream I can't quite remember, I'm surrounded by warmth. Clean, naked skin still damp from a hot shower presses against me. Hands pull me back against a hard chest. Fingers make their way over my stomach, across my breasts and along the curve of my neck before gently tugging on the lobe of my ear.

I breathe the smell of soap in deeply.

I'm not quite awake yet, but I'm getting there.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he murmurs.

"It's okay," I whisper back. "You're here now."

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May, 2012

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I hear the words over and over in my head. I hear them, but I can't say them. I hear them, but they're my words…and I want them to be his words, too. I want to hear them in his voice, him emotion, his heart. _

"_You want me," he whispers. It almost sounds like a question, but it's not. He knows. He knows because I told him. "Tell me again."_

_So I offer him my heart with my words. One more time. _

"_You," I tell him, pulling myself closer, clutching his face hard in my hands, looking in his eyes and kissing him again. "I want you."_

"_Always?"_

"_Always."_

_His lips cover my lips, and I breathe his breath. He grips me tight, his body covering me, on top of me. I want to close my eyes, to feel, to fully experience what I know is about to come, but I don't want to look away because his face has been missing from my life for so long._

_My legs fall to the side, making room for him to press against the center of my body. I'm still wet from him. I'm still wet for him. I want to feel him – I want to know that he's hard. That he wants me just as much._

_He reaches between us; his hand moves down my side, over my hip. His lips are wet as they cross my cheek, and small, short gasps and pants fill my ear._

"_Are you sure?"_

_I nod my head; I whisper, "Yes."_

_So much, so much, so much. _

_I want this so fucking much._

_He licks my neck, his mouth open and hot. And it feels so good, I can't help the whimper that escapes me. He bites down gently on my shoulder as he lifts me higher, pulls me closer to him._

"_So good," I moan._

"_I'm gonna make this so good," he says. _

_His cock presses against the opening of my pussy; I whimper and spread my legs wider, wanting him inside me. All the way inside me._

"_Bella," he moans my name. _

_And he's so close that I could just shift up and take him in, but I wait. It kills me, but I wait for him. I've waited for him – for this – for so fucking long._

"_Please," I whimper, and I don't even care that I sound like I'm begging. I am begging. "Please, Edward."_

_My fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, and just for a moment, his eyes close. His head falls back and it looks like he's in pain. And in that moment I know that his pain and my pain are the same. _

_Our need is the same._

_Everything – all of it – has been the same for both of us._

_His eyes open. They pierce me. They see me. They want me._

_And he thrusts._

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December, 2012

He's still damp, but it's not from the shower. He smells like me, like us, like sex.

Like our sex.

I settle against his chest. My fingers trail softly across his stomach. His hand strokes my back while the other one pulls my thigh further across him. His cock is still warm and wet…soft. And I love it. I love that it means he was just inside me.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" he asks.

I kiss his nipple; I bite it softly before licking it. I love the way it makes him moan. I love even more the way he pulls me closer.

"Like what?" I ask. "In the middle of the night while I'm still half-asleep and you're exhausted from work?"

He laughs. Even though it's silent and I can't see him, I can feel the movement of his chest against my cheek.

"What we just did," he murmurs slowly, his hands caressing my belly and then up and over my breasts. "Did that feel like I was exhausted?"

His thumbs and fingers play with my nipples, twisting them gently before rubbing them softly. And I rub my leg across his cock, wondering if it's too soon for him to get hard again.

"What we just did felt pretty fucking amazing," I tell him, looking up, so I can see his eyes illuminated by the light outside our window.

I can feel him growing hard again beneath my leg; I rub across his cock gently before sliding my leg down and reaching down to take him in my hand. He feels full, heavy, a little sticky and wet from before. I love it. I swipe my thumb across the head. He whimpers and his mouth finds mine, wet and already panting. And he breathes into me, "Do you want to do it again?"

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May, 2012

_The feeling of Edward inside me is something I never thought I'd forget. Not in ten years…or even a hundred. But the stretching, the almost burning sensation of being filled by him is almost too much to handle. And I realize that my memory of him – of this – never did him justice._

"_Fuck," he hisses, a moan emanating from deep in his throat. "So…so tight…so good."_

_He stills, his eyes close and everything around me disappears. He is everything in the entire world. Over me, around me…inside me. I see the tension in his face, the rapid pulse beating in his neck. I feel the slower pulsing inside my pussy._

"_You feel so good," he rasps, opening his eyes and looking down at me. "So tight…so fucking wet. I…I can't…"_

"_Please," I whimper. "Please, Edward…move. I want….I need…it feels..."_

_He kisses me deep, hard, fast. And then he shifts his hips, pulling almost all the way out._

"_What?" he asks. "What do you feel?"_

"_Too much," I whimper. "Just…just everything. It's been too long."_

_My words trigger something inside him. I see it in his face. I feel it in the protective way he pulls me up, closer against him. His hands grip my shoulders and in one quick movement, he thrusts back inside…and he begins to fuck me._

_The room is silent except for the sounds of our sex. Panting breaths and sliding skin…and wet noise as he pushes inside me over and over again. My hands grip his shoulders, his back. And his hands make their way down to my ass, as he holds me._

_I follow his eyes to where he's watching himself slide in and out. And I don't know where I want to look more. Watching him, watching his cock take me is incredibly erotic. But seeing the expression on his face is so much more. The way he wants this – the way he wants me – is beyond any ecstasy I have ever known. It's more…it's everything. And I lose myself to him all over again._

"_I can't live without you," he pants as he hunches over me, still pressing into me. His movements have sped, his breathing erratic. "Not after…not now…this…this….this…"_

_His words are too much. _

_I can't process them while he's with me like this._

"_So close," he breathes sloppily into my ear. "So…oh, god, Bella…can you come?"_

"_Close," I cry. "Don't stop."_

"_Please, baby," he says, his mouth kissing me, his tongue sloppy and wet and he bites down on my chin and then my neck. "Please…come on me, Bella. Please…come for me again."_

_I'm close, but not there. And I know he's not going to last. His whole body tenses as he throws his head back. And I feel his cock swell inside me just as he begins to empty hot and thick and wet inside me._

"_I love you," he cries. "I love you, Bella…so fucking much."_

_And with that – his words, his declaration in a moment when I know he's telling the truth – my emotions trigger my body, and I come along with him. On him as he collapses on top of me._

"_I love you, too," I cry, meaning it. ""I'm so in love with you."_

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December, 2012

The sun shines through the slit in the curtains of our bedroom.

Our bedroom.

I open my eyes, waking to the sound of his heart beating slow and steady.

I kiss him softly on the chest because I can. Because he's here with me, and I can. I don't know if I'll ever get used to the feeling again. Having him here in my life. Our life. I don't move because I don't want to wake him. He's been working so many long hours at the hospital. He constantly apologizes, and I constantly remind him to stop because long hours are nothing compared to the years without him.

I close my eyes, settling back down against him. I'm not really sleepy, but there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here in his arms. But I feel the quickening of his heart, I feel the slight pull and flex of his muscles as he stretches.

"Good morning, baby," he says, his voice thick and full and raspy with sleep.

"Shhhh…" I hush hm. "Go back to sleep."

He laughs quietly.

I smile against his skin.

"Are you still tired?" he asks.

"No," I tell him. "But I know you have to be."

"I'm okay," he says, pulling me closer, wrapping me up in his warm arms. He kisses the top of my head, and I shiver.

He still makes me shiver.

"When do you have to go back to work?" I ask.

His hands trail down my back, over my ass. He squeezes and pulls, lifting me over him. I settle on his waist. Watching him watch me. This position still feels new to me. But he tells me he likes to watch me on top of him. He likes my breasts. And I blush thinking about it. Even more as I see him looking at me.

His hands slide up my sides, as he cups me fully in his hands. His thumbs brush across my nipples softly.

Both of us grow hard.

"Not until tomorrow night," he tells me, smiling, his eyes never leaving my breasts.

"I get almost two whole days with you?" I ask, the excitement in my voice evident.

He smiles up at me.

"Yeah," he nods. "Did you have anything in mind to fill all that time?"

"A few things," I whisper, lifting up and taking him inside.

And we make love slowly, sweetly. With whispered words that seem quiet against the sounds of our bodies and the city outside.

When we're done and lying together, I tell him, "I'm sorry you're having to work so much."

"It comes with the job," he says.

"Do you…do you ever regret coming here? I would have come to Seattle to be with you."

He pulls me close, his breath warm in my ear. "I haven't had a single regret since May. This is the happiest I've ever been in my life, Bella. You know that, right?"

I don't think about the ten years that separated us anymore. He's filled every void, every corner of my empty life without him. But right now I remember everything, every year, every day, every single moment without him.

Edward was always meant to be the one.

It just took us a long time to accept it.

Some might say that it took us too long. That there were too many wasted years. But the truth is, I don't know that I could be any happier than I am right now. Even if we'd never been apart. And I can't spend another ten years wondering, thinking about all the things we missed. Because I would miss this – moments like this – along the way.

And I don't want to waste another minute.

I look up at him and he smiles. It's devastating how beautiful it is. How beautiful he is.

"I know," I tell him, smiling back and then kissing him softly. "Me too."

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**A/N**

**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you. A million times and a million different ways would never be enough to tell you how much I adore you and all the women in this community. Thank you for spending a few minutes of your mornings with me for the last twenty days. **

**My pre-readers really make this enjoyable for me. Having a group of wonderful, witty women tell you what they think is kind of priceless and I love them all. Caren, Jaime, Kourt, Laura and Raina…ILY.**

**Marvar, there really are no words left. I've used them all. I adore you. I couldn't do this withoutyou. You make everything I write better. Thank you, solemeat.**


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